Yellow and Grey
by unspeakable49
Summary: Magic has always been part of my life, but never a part of me. It surrounds me, consumes me, burns me. It tortures me; to know it's so close, and yet, I can never have it. I am Molly Audrey Weasley. I am a Squib.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey guys. This is my first multi-chapter fic, along with another one I'm starting simultaneously. This is just the prologue. I'm going to begin updating regularly in June. Hopefully we'll have a few people following this by then. Thank you to everyone at ****_Unspoken_****! They've all been so very encouraging and helped me test my abilities in all types of writing styles. Can't thank you guys enough, and I hope you like this!**

* * *

It's ironic that my father always thought he was the black sheep of the Weasley family. He was the one who was different. The only one who was so uptight and meticulous. The odd one out.

Until I came along.

And then he was suddenly part of the whole cluster of yellow little ducklings and I was the only ugly little grey one left out.

I am Molly Audrey Weasley.

I am a Squib.

* * *

**It's very short, but it's only the prologue! :)**

**Please leave a review. They make me giddy. :P**

**-Sana**


	2. Expect the Unexpected

**Chapter 1. Expect the Unexpected**

**Molly.**

* * *

_"Your daughter is most unfortunately... a Squib."_

_"You can't play Quidditch, Molls! You might get hurt!"_

_"That's it. I'm leaving this house."_

_"My father says Squibs don't deserve to live. They're a disgrace."_

A Squib. Squib. Squib.

_"Where's my Hogwarts letter?" "Honey, they don't have a place for Squibs. You can go to a Muggle primary school. Now isn't that nice? I've heard they're lots of fun!"_

_"I'm better than you, Molly. I can actually do magic. So don't act all high and mighty cause you're the older sister."_

_"It's because I'm a Squib!"_

I'm a Squib. A Squib. Squib. Squib.

* * *

"Expecto Patronum!"

"Thanks Matt," I nodded gratefully, still shaken from the onslaught of negativity that the Dementors always bring about.

"Any time, Molly. Sorry I was late today. Got hung up a little," he replied.

"No problem," I said, the memories swirling in my head.

* * *

_"Molly, darling, we're ready to leave," my mother called out from downstairs._

_I ran down the stairs excitedly. "Where are we going, Mummy?"_

_Dad patted my head affectionately. "Healer's appointment. Remember we told you we would go today, Molls?"_

_My face fell. "To ask why my magic's not coming yet?" I asked, my lower lip wobbling dangerously._

_"Well, yes," he replied._

_"But I don't want to go," I cried. "He'll prod me and poke me! I don't want to get hurt!"_

_"Healers don't do that, honey," Mum said, hugging me._

_"Yes, they do," I wailed even louder. "James told me!"_

_"Well, James hasn't gone for this particular test," my father told me._

_I stopped short at that. "What test?"_

_"We're going to go for a magic test."_

_I giggled. "Silly, Daddy. Everything's magic for wizards."_

_He cleared his throat uncomfortably._

_"Sweetie, we're going to get the Healer to check out why your magic hasn't come yet," my mother said gently._

_"Okay," I agreed happily, not knowing the worst of it._

_"And there's a possibility you could be a Squib," she continued, now bending down on her knees, eye to eye with me. "Although I'm sure that won't happen, but we want you to be prepared if it does come down to it."_

_My lip began wobbling again as my eyes watered. "I don't want to be a Squib," I screeched, and promptly began crying again._

_Dad sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, as he turned around and walked into the living room. Crying children really weren't his forte."I'm going to go check-up on Lucy at Ginny's. Meet you at St. Mungo's in ten minutes."_

_"Okay, honey," my mother said, busy trying to comfort me._

_"I'm sorry to inform you, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but from the report it seems as if your daughter is not simply a late bloomer as we had hoped, but she may never show any signs of magic at all."_

_My parents stared at the Healer in shock._

_"You mean -" my mother gasped._

_"Is she -" Dad broke off, the unasked question lingering on his lips._

_The Healer lowered his head and looked at me straight in the eye with a sad expression in his eyes. "Yes, your daughter is most unfortunately... a Squib."_

* * *

_Your daughter is a Squib. A Squib. Squib. Squib._

The words echoed around my mind as I walked towards the small building next to the towering structure that was Azkaban.

"Hey, tough time getting past the Dementors today?" a familiar voice startled me out of my thoughts.

I turned around and gave Aidan a grim smile. "Yeah, slow reflexes today, so I forgot to wait for Matt to come get me. I just walked straight into the danger zone," I said, shaking my head, "Woke up late today and didn't get to have any coffee."

He nodded in understanding. "I noticed you seemed a bit distracted. So all set to go?" he asked, grabbing a folder from the top of the cupboard.

"Just let me sign and get my papers," I signed the entry form with a quick flourish, before heading over to the cabinet where I kept my work papers. "How's Adele?"

Aidan chuckled. "You do know you talk to her more often than I do, right?"

"She's your sister!" I scolded laughingly. "Besides, she's got a new boy toy now..." I said, with a lilt in my tone.

"What!"

Ha, I knew that would get his attention. Overprotective freak of a brother that he is.

"Mhm, you should visit her. Check things out."

He looked at me suspiciously for a second, before realising I was just bluffing. Damn, he knows me too well.

"You know, for someone who ran away from home two years ago, you sure eager for me to visit mine regularly. Hypocrite," he teased, pulling my ponytail a little.

"Hey! Don't touch the hair!"

"Sorry, sorry. I know you have those issues with personal space, but Molls! I just love you so much," he said dramatically, engulfing me in a giant bear hug.

"You prat! Get away from me," I struggled, my voice muffled in his chest.

"Cavorting in the office again? Relationships between co-workers are banned," a droll voice said.

"Maddy! That got old ages ago," I laughed, finally freeing myself from Aidan's suffocating grip.

She grinned. "Sorry, can't resist. You two besties are so cute," she said in a baby voice, pulling Aidan's cheeks.

"Hey," he protested, but anyone could see it was half-hearted at best.

"Well, I'm off to the cells now - no, Aidan, I don't need you today," I said, before he could even ask. "Now you two kiddies have fun. Why don't you two head to mainland? Take a day off! You can even take Molly the Third with you."

"Ministry checks today, Molls, that's why I'm here," Maddy reminded me. "But I would love to take your boat for a ride!"

"Yeah, yeah, go," I waved them away.

"I find it so weird that you refer to your boat as Molly the Third every time it comes up in a conversation," Aidan commented rolling his eyes.

"Come on, Aidan, let's go!" Maddy squealed in excitement. She loves my boat. And what can I say? I have good taste.

She pulled his arm, practically dragging him out to the beach. Aidan turned to mouth 'thank you'.

I just shrugged.

Aidan's a real charmer with girls, but with Maddy? He really needs all the help he can get.

* * *

"So, Greyback, how are you today?" I asked, setting my papers and bag down on the table in one corner of the cell.

He grunted in response.

"Still unwilling to talk?"

"I would never give answers to the likes of you, blood traitor," he spat venomously.

I sighed. "Really? This is getting so old. You say the same thing to me every week. At least try to use some variety when you insult me!" I said in a condescending tone.

"So want to tell me where the rest of the pack is hiding? And don't bother denying that you don't know where they are, because we know you do."

"Why don't you all just use Legilimency?" he snarled.

"Such aggressiveness," I chided. "We'd like you to give the answers yourself. Besides, your only crime is giving in to the urges you have as a werewolf. It's not too late, you know. You could work on yourself. We'd help you. You can live a normal life. Werewolf rights have greatly improved since the war," I softened my expression, hoping to tempt him with the offer.

"You can't be that naïve to believe that, little girl," he said in disbelief.

I shrugged. "You won't know until you try."

The problem with the wizarding society is that although conditions have improved since Voldemort was defeated, most of the 'gracious' behaviour shown to the ex-Death Eaters and their supporters is just a façade. The Light has victimised themselves so much, they forget that although the Death Eaters were mainly responsible for causing the misery, the same misery affected them the worst.

This makes it harder to get them to open up to us, to repent, to accept change. They feel like it's not worth the effort, because it's not like anyone would understand how scarred they were after the war and the pain they experienced.

And the sad part is - they're right.

The upper class of the wizarding world is still filled with prejudiced bigots - although now the prejudice is not against impure blood, but against those trying to make the best of the second chance they were given.

"I don't want to change," he growled.

"Why won't you try?" I pleaded.

He maintained a stony silence. I waited patiently, waiting for him to say something. Most people do crack if you wait long enough, but unfortunately, Greyback wasn't proving to be one of those people.

"Okay, so you don't want me to be nice to you. What do you want? Do you want us to torture you? We need that information. They've been wreaking havoc. Stealing, attacking, raping, killing - I know it means nothing to you, since you're the one who trained them to be capable of all this evil, but we need the information."

"So tell me, Greyback, what will it be? Will you talk or will you scream? We're going to get that information out of you." I finished, menacingly.

He smirked at me. "You think you're so scary, little girl. You might be scary to some, but you forget, I was part of that torture. I can resist giving in."

"Really?" I checked my nails nonchalantly. "Even Muggle methods? I heard they've gotten quite... brutal."

I searched his eyes for a flicker of worry, any sign of a weakness, but I had to admit, Greyback was good. He simply shrugged and smirked.

"All right, Greyback, guess we're done here. I'll be coming in again next week to have a nice long chat with you. But be warned, that's the only chance you're going to get to tell us what we want to hear - nicely. After that, we'll definitely start getting rough with you, but hey," I gave him the menacing smile I had perfected over the years, "with everything that you've been involved with, you probably have a high tolerance of pain, eh? We'll see how far we can go." I gathered my folders, and walked out.

* * *

Aidan was waiting for me by the cell door. "I still find it creepy how you can be so scary when you're threatening these guys, and yet so perfectly understanding when you deal with your other patients," he said, an amused grin playing on his lips.

I laughed. "What can I say? I'm a woman of many talents and many, many layers. Why are you back so soon anyway?"

"Maddy remembered that the Ministry officials are due earlier than usual, so we only stayed out for two hours, while you did your sessions."

I made an understanding sound, as we walked past the dank cells, Aidan's wolf Patronus circling us all the way.

"What's your plan for the weekend?" Aidan asked.

"Not sure. Adele and I made tentative plans for shopping, but nothing's confirmed yet. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "No reason," he feigned casualness.

I poked him in the side. "That's not going to work on me," I teased.

"Fine, I wanted to know if you can do something, maybe a dinner for co-workers?" he said, poking me back.

I jumped to the side. I'm very ticklish, just about everywhere. "Oh, so you can see Maddy? Hmm, I don't know. You might be able to convince me," I winked.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What do you want me to do?"

I laughed, twirling out into the sunlight. "I don't know, I'll think about it. Although -"

No. This cannot be happening, I thought, as I saw who was stepping out of the Ministry boat.

* * *

_"So that's it?" I panted angrily, my chest heaving from my outburst moments ago. "You don't want me to go because you think it's unsafe?"_

_"Look, Molly, I understand what you're saying, but I just think it won't be a good idea for you to start working at Azkaban," Dad stated firmly._

_"But why?" I screamed in frustration. "Why won't you let me pursue my dream job? I just want to help those people out! Is it because I'm a Squib?" I mocked, not really believing it._

_"Oh my God," I whispered, seeing Dad's defiant look and the embarrassed expression on Mum's face. "You guys think I'm incapable of this, because I can't do magic?" My voice rose with every word, until I was nearly shouting in the end._

_"You know what? That's it. I'm leaving this house. You two need to accept who I am. I'm a Squib and it's not going to stop me from living life. You treat me like," I threw my hands up searching for the right word, "like I'm an invalid or something. Magic isn't necessary to live, you know. I'm sure I would be much happier living a nice, safe, predictable Muggle life, far away from all this magical nonsense, but I wanted to help make things better for those people who are part of your world and are suffering. The war's over, but the repercussions are still being felt. Those people need someone to help them. I wanted to be a part of that, to be a part of bringing that change. I just wanted," my voice cracked. Don't cry, I told myself sternly. Whatever happens, don't cry. "I just wanted to help contribute to what you all started; but I guess not having magic makes me pretty much non-eligible for that," I finished quietly, ignoring the tears threatening to spill from my eyes._

_I looked at them silently. Dad's expression still hadn't changed, and Mum now had tears streaming down her cheeks._

_And that's when I knew._

_They didn't understand me - not one bit._

_I didn't belong with them. I didn't fit into this magical family that had changed history. I never had and I never would._

_Magic had always been a part of my life, but never a part of me. I had been surrounded by it. It had been so close, but always out of my reach. It was so ironic that my father always thought he was the black sheep of the Weasley family. He was the one who was different. The only one who was so uptight and meticulous. The odd one out._

_Until I came along._

_And then he was suddenly part of the whole cluster of yellow little ducklings and I was the only ugly little grey one left out - not because my family hated me, because they did try very hard to include me - but because as a Squib, I naturally had a very different lifestyle as compared to my numerous cousins. It was too difficult for them to understand me._

_So instead, they smothered me. Treated me like I had a terminal disease, just waiting to be cured. I don't think my family ever managed to accept how _permanent_ this is._

_I had dealt with this my whole life - growing up practically alone, always coming up with excuses for their at times insensitive and overbearing behaviour, smiling falsely at hearing how _magical_ Hogwarts was, or how _magical_ their fancy wizard jobs were - but now?_

_Now I've had enough._

_"Goodbye," I said stiffly, and walked out slamming the door behind me._

* * *

I hadn't seen my parents for two years. Not since the day I walked out.

Living on an island, far away from mainland, makes it much easier to travel to Azkaban twice a week, and at the same time makes it pretty much impossible to bump into family members. It's a convenient arrangement, especially for someone like me, with family spread out to every corner of England.

The only chance there is to have an unfortunate meeting with them is at the quarterly trip senior Ministry officials have to make to Azkaban to check up on the situation here. I only had a chance meeting with Uncle Harry once, but he was so surprised to see me that I managed to slip away before he could get out a single coherent sentence.

"Molly?" Aidan asked curiously.

"This is not happening," I mumbled to myself. "Not happening, not happening, _not_ happening." I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping he would disappear when I opened them.

But lo and behold, the man was not a figment of my imagination.

Well, you always should expect the unexpected.

I took a calming breath, before greeting him.

"Hello, Father."

* * *

**A/N: So that's the first chapter. Much longer than the 100 word prologue, but still shorter than I wanted it to be. This just seemed like a good place to end the chapter though.**

**Please remember, this is my first multi-chapter fic, so your reviews are really important for me and this story! Criticism is appreciated, but please don't be too harsh, lol.**

**IMPORTANT: I was wondering if you guys would be interested in following a twitter about this story? You can ask questions - because I've got SO much planned out for these characters, and I'm wondering if I'll be able to weave all that in the story. And I'll post snippets of upcoming chapters, and just generally keep you guys updated. I'm also going to make a tumblr, where you can see the face claims for the characters and I'll make character pages and everything. Let me know if you're interested.**

**I also thought I'd let you guys know that I have absolutely no idea how the title of this story is going to fit in. It just seemed like a good name after I wrote the prologue, cause of the whole duckling thing. I'll try to put something about colours in though cause I really like the title, but I hope you won't mind if that doesn't happen? :$**

**Another thing that's not going to fit in with everything else is the prologue. Initially, Molly was sixteen in my head, irrational, immature and hurting. So the prologue was understandably exaggerated and emo. But now she's suddenly put on six years because the whole plot line has taken a complete U-turn. I like it better this way though. But the prologue does introduce her?**

**Yeah, I have no idea what I'm doing. Writing A/Ns seems to be my only talent.**

**Anywho, please review!**

**Oh, and my exams are far from over, in case you were wondering...**

**-Sana.**


	3. Genetic Mess-Up

**Chapter 2. Genetic Mess-Up**

**Percy.**

* * *

**MY EXAMS ARE OVER. YESYESYESYES. Ahem. Now back to the story.**

**This chapter starts with a flashback, goes a day in the past and then continues where I left off in the last chapter. And this is from Percy's pov.**

* * *

_"What did you have to tell us, Molly," Audrey asked, curled up on the sofa next to me._

_Molly sat down in front of us. She was almost jumping with joy. It was rare that she showed so much excitement, and so the situation was completely baffling._

_"I got a job!"_

_"Molly, that's brilliant," I beamed. "Come here."_

_She hopped over to us and I pulled her into a hug._

_"So tell us all about it," Audrey demanded, after all the hugs had been given and received._

_"It's as a psychologist. You know, those Muggles who listen to people's problems? The stuff I've been studying for the past few years? It's my dream job," she said, giddy with joy._

_"That's great," I commented, smiling at her enthusiasm, even though I only had a vague idea about the field she was referring to. "So you'll be working in the Muggle community?"_

_"Oh no," she chirped. "I'll be working at Azkaban! Isn't it exciting?"_

_My smile fell off my face. I felt Audrey stiffen in my arms._

_"Uh, Molls, that's brilliant, but don't you think Azkaban is a bit... dreary?" Audrey said gently._

_Dreary? The word in my mind was dangerous!_

_Our Squib daughter wouldn't survive a day there. She wouldn't be able to handle the emotional baggage of being a war hero's daughter. Those people in those cells would chew her up alive and spit her out on her first day at work._

_Not to mention she can't even cast a Patronus Charm._

_"Oh, please, Mum!" Molly replied cheerfully._

_"You can't go," I said decisively, my good mood forgotten. "Forget dreary, it's too dangerous!"_

_"What?" she questioned, a bewildered expression on her face._

_"There are all sorts of criminals at Azkaban - you can't go. Godric knows what they'd do to you. Not to mention the Dementors."_

_"I've talked to my boss and she said she'll take care of all of it," she said, defiantly, but I remained adamant._

_After a lot of arguing, tears and shouting, Molly seemed to have realised that I was not going to budge on this._

_"So that's it?" she panted angrily, her chest heaving from her outburst moments ago. "You don't want me to go because you think it's unsafe?"_

_"Look, Molly, I understand what you're saying, but I just think it won't be a good idea for you to start working at Azkaban," I stated firmly._

_"But why?" She screamed in frustration. "Why won't you let me pursue my dream job? I just want to help those people out! Is it because I'm a Squib?" she asked, sarcastically._

_I couldn't deny that, as much as I wished that I could._

_Molly couldn't do magic, and in the aristocratic purebloods' eyes that put her below even the filth on their expensive shoes._

_Those were the same people who were sitting out their sentences in Azkaban now. They wouldn't even give her an ounce of respect. The degradation that she would have to undergo was beyond imagination._

_The Dementors were just an added disadvantage. She wouldn't even be able to raise a wand against the torrent of misery that they carry with them everywhere they go._

_"Oh my God," she whispered, in shock, realization dawning her face. "You guys think I'm incapable of this, because I can't do magic?" Her voice rose with every word, until she was nearly shouting in the end._

_"You know what? That's it. I'm leaving this house. You two need to accept who I am. I'm a Squib and it's not going to stop me from living life. You treat me like," she threw her hands up searching for the right word, "like I'm an invalid or something. Magic isn't necessary to live, you know. I'm sure I would be much happier living a nice, safe, predictable Muggle life, far away from all this magical nonsense, but I wanted to help make things better for those people who are part of your world and are suffering. The war's over, but the repercussions are still being felt. Those people need someone to help them. I wanted to be a part of that, to be a part of bringing that change. I just wanted," her voice cracked, her eyes brimming with tears. "I just wanted to help contribute to what you all started; but I guess not having magic makes me pretty much non-eligible for that," she finished quietly, ignoring the tears threatening to spill from her eyes._

_I had lost control on my body. I tried to open my mouth, to defend myself and to assure her that it wasn't the way she understood it to be, but my body refused to comply. I simply stood there with a hardened look on my face, watching the myriad of emotions pass across her face._

_Until she finally said, "Goodbye," and walked out of the door._

_Audrey stared in shock, as the door slammed shut. "She left?" she whispered in disbelief, turning to gaze at me._

_Somewhere down the lane, we had lost our first born. I suppose the signs had always been there - the way she had slowly drifted away from us; the composed expression she always wore, never letting us into her head; the way she had completely separated us from her 'other' life, her 'normal' life - and then just now: the way her eyes had gleamed with defiance, the way we had migrated to the front hall amidst our argument, and then finally, her passionate speech._

_But I remained in denial, insisting to myself that we had been right to treat her the way we had._

_"She'll be back tomorrow," I said firmly. "She has nowhere to go."_

_I was proven wrong._

_Molly didn't show up the next day - or the next - or the next._

_In fact, I didn't see her again for two years..._

* * *

"So you have to go to Azkaban tomorrow for the Ministry check," Audrey said softly, playing around with her food.

I sighed, giving up on my pretence of eating the chowmien Audrey had cooked. I took her hand in mine. "I'll try, darling, I'll do my best." I mustered up a reassuring smile.

She gave me a half hearted smile in return, squeezing my hand tighter.

"It's just so difficult to know that we drove her away," she murmured. "It's no one's fault that she's a Squib, but if anyone can be blamed, it's us for passing on those genes to her."

I nodded, staring into my plate.

Truthfully, I didn't have much hope of seeing Molly tomorrow. In the past two years, I had been to Azkaban thrice already, and each time Molly had managed to evade me. I had asked around, only to find out that she had extremely loyal friends, who had no qualms about telling me in a very straightforward manner that she didn't want us to know where she lived or what her work schedule was. All I could get out of them was that she was fine and happy.

Audrey sniffed a little, and I turned sharply to face her. "Don't cry, Audrey, she's not lost to us forever. It's only been two years. We'll find her; don't worry."

"But how, Percy?" she cried, throwing herself into my arms. "We don't even know her address and she seems hell bent on avoiding us. You remember what Harry said! She didn't even stop to say hello when she bumped into him at Azkaban in February. When did we create such a barrier between our daughter and ourselves? When did things change so much? I thought she was happy, that she was coping with all this. She never once mentioned that she felt we weren't treating her properly!"

I wrapped my arms around Audrey, and carefully stood up carrying her up the stairs and to our bedroom. I sat down on a bed, and I stroked her hair gently as she let it all out.

Seeing Audrey grieve for our stubborn eldest makes me feel even guiltier about leaving home during the war. I can't imagine what my parents must have gone through - at least we know Molly is safe; they spent every day wondering if they'd ever meet me again alive.

And one of them almost didn't.

_Fred._

As always, thinking of Fred causes a wave of guilt to wash over me. If only I had come back sooner...

I shook my head, shaking out thoughts of those horrifying days and focusing on the matter at hand.

Audrey seemed to have let out all the tears she could cry and was now staring quietly at the wall. I gripped her hand tightly.

"She's so much like you, you know," Audrey commented, letting out a slight laugh. "Stubborn, ambitious and work oriented - work oriented to the point that she won't even let her family stand in the way."

I made a non-committal sound in response. "I don't think our personalities are anything similar to each other's, but the irony of the situation isn't lost on me. Sometimes I wonder if this is my punishment for leaving home all those years ago. Maybe this is what karma had in store for me."

Audrey laughed. "Yeah, Molly actually knows how to have fun, unlike you."

I glared at her playfully, until she leaned up and planted a small kiss on my cheek. "I like you just the way you are," she said, patting my cheek. "And you've actually gotten much better at having fun, after spending years married to me," she winked, smiling at me with a teasing twinkle in her eyes.

I laughed.

For a moment, the weight of our problems seemed to have been lifted, but it soon dropped back on our shoulders.

I sighed. "I'll leave a note for her if she's not there tomorrow."

Audrey nodded, but she looked lost in thought. "Do you think -" she broke off hesitating. "Do you think we're ready to be her parents again?"

I was taken aback by the question. "What do you mean? We were ready to be her parents twenty two years ago."

"I know, but clearly something went wrong somewhere and she feels as if we don't deserve that privilege anymore," she bit her lip, a worried look marring her features. "I don't think Molly would agree to come back if she thought we hadn't accepted the way things are."

"I don't think we have a choice, dear," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Whether we're okay with it or not, we have to pretend that we've thought this through if we want our daughter back."

* * *

I stepped out of the Ministry boat and onto the rocky beach. The presence of the Dementors hung over us like a dark cloud, despite the Patronuses circling us.

"I wonder if they ever have a good day here," Goldstein commented, shuddering slightly.

I ignored his comment, squinting to see if I could catch sight of Molly anywhere.

My breath caught suddenly, as I spotted a pristine white boat with the words _'Molly the Third'_ painted in a curling font on the side. There were a few signatures and messages scrawled around it, flowers and other doodles scattered about.

The presence of the boat confirmed what I had not even dared to hope for.

_Molly was here._

Just as I reached that conclusion, I saw the familiar figure of a tall red-haired girl - one that I had hoped to see most desperately, but had not expected. She twirled out from an entrance to the looming building of Azkaban, smiling and laughing with a young man who looked to be about the same age.

I found myself smiling at the sound of her contagious giggling, and a sense of peace and calm filled me. I had finally found her - I had found my daughter.

And I wasn't going to let her go this time.

She may have been able to avoid Harry's grasp, but it wouldn't be so easy for her to escape me.

I could tell from the moment she caught sight of me though, that convincing her to come back would not be easy. She froze with the expression of a deer caught in headlights across her face.

It was a few moments later that her companion gazed at her with a questioning expression and she began moving again.

"Hello, Father," she greeted.

I managed a small smile. "Molly. How are you?"

I was shaken beyond belief. I didn't know if it was the grim smile across her face, or the icy look in her eyes - but I could tell Molly had far from forgiven us.

I was consumed by a sudden wave of anger. How _dare_ she blame this on us? She hadn't exactly given us a chance to apologise and make amendments. No, she had run away and never even bothered to look back.

My eyes flashed, and she glared in response.

"Let's pretend this never happened?" she stated casually, turning slightly, as if she would walk away.

"Oh no," I said, catching hold of her arm. "You've caused your mother enough pain as it is, young lady. You're coming home with me."

From the corner of my eye, I spotted the man who had exited with her leading Goldstein away. I silently thanked him for the privacy he had given us.

Molly arched a brow. "Oh? I'm coming _home_ with you? I don't think so. I'm twenty-two, I can make my own decisions. And right now I'm going home - _my home_," she stressed the words almost painfully.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Arguing with Molly and putting her on the defensive would get me nowhere.

"Molly," I pleaded quietly. "At least visit us. Your mother is sick with worry. We haven't seen you for two years. Please give me your address - so we can write to you, even if you don't want to fix things just yet."

She gave a derisive snort. "If _I_ want to fix things? I don't remember ruining them in the first place! You know what, Dad, you haven't changed at all. You still don't get it. You still think I'm acting like a spoilt brat who thinks throwing a tantrum will get her whatever she wants. Well guess what? That girl doesn't exist anymore - she hasn't for a very long time, not since I was nine."

A brief memory of a screeching nine year old Molly, wailing and protesting against being a Squib, flashed before my eyes. I felt a pang of guilt as I realised she was right, and I couldn't remember how many years it had been since she had stopped crying to get the smallest of things - since she had stopped being my little girl.

"But you wouldn't know that, would you?" she continued furiously. "You haven't even bothered to get to know me since we found out I'm a Squib. It's because I'm a disgrace. You feel like a failure. While all your siblings managed to produce wonderfully talented, _magical_ young kids, you were saddled with a useless Squib! It's true, isn't it? You're ashamed of me," she smirked slightly at seeing my horrified expression.

I gritted my teeth in anger. "Listen to me, Molly," I growled, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You may be twenty-two and I may have been a horrible father, but I am exactly that: your father! And it would do you good to remember that. You don't have the right to speak to me that way. I understand that our relationship can never be the way it was. I understand that you want me to change. But how can you expect me to make the changes you want to see, when you refuse to even talk to us!"

She looked slightly mollified, and a little nervous. Good, I thought, she needs an attitude check.

"Now, give me your address, and let your mother write to you," I finished softly.

"Mother," she scoffed, the defiance creeping back into her eyes. "It's all about mother is it? You don't give a damn about how your own daughter is doi-"

"Didn't you just hear what I said," I cut her off sharply. "I do care - I am worried. You just don't seem willing to give me a chance. So I'm asking you - no, _begging_ - at least give your mother a chance."

She sighed. "Dad," she sounded tired now, as if she had used up all her pent up energy of two years. "It's not that I don't miss you guys, because I do, but if I open up this avenue for you guys, I don't want you to be all over my life like you used to be. I want to make my own decision, be my own person. Just because I'm a Squib, doesn't mean I don't have the capability to make rational decisions about my life."

I took a good look at her face. She may have pulled away from us while growing up, but she was still my daughter, and I could see the worry and anxiety on her face. Sighing, I pulled her into my arms, hugging her and kissing the top of her head.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I want to fix things."

She stood frozen in my arms, until finally she pulled away slightly. "I know," she said with a small smile. "But I'm not ready yet. So I'll give you my address, but don't push me."

"I promise," I said, glad that I had managed to iron things out between us - at least for now, I had.

* * *

"Hey, Perce," George said, peeping in from behind the door. "Mind if I come in?"

"Yes, of course. Come in, George," I replied, getting up from my chair. "Tea or coffee?"

He waved his hand away. "Neither. I was just about to leave anyway. Though I'd drop in and see how you're doing."

"I'm fine, how are you? What brings you to Ministry?"

"Needed to go through some procedure to get permission for one of the potions used in our latest invention. All paperwork and formalities. It's all taken care of now." He looked at me before asking, "How was Azkaban?" He seemed cautious, as if he thought he was treading on thin ice.

I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment. "I met Molly -"

"Really?" his eyes narrowed.

"And she's not happy," I finished.

"No?"

"No," I confirmed.

"Oh," said George, seemingly lost. "So um, she won't come back."

"I have no idea. She did give me her address and say she'd visit sometime. But she doesn't want us to pressurise her."

George looked at me with a thoughtful expression. "Well, at least it's a start. Did you figure out why she left though? It couldn't just have been the job thing. Although, you have to admit, Perce, she's good at what she does and you don't give her enough credit. From what I've heard, she's been pretty helpful in getting some of the inmates to confess their dirty little secrets. She's a lot more like you than you think."

That was the second time I was hearing that in two days.

Molly was nothing like me. It was only a coincidence that she had pulled the same stunt that I had.

"Karma, huh?" George laughed, seeming to have read my thoughts. He stood up and patted my shoulder. "I best be off then. Good luck handling our stubborn little Molly."

I sat there lost in thought for longer than I care to admit. Her spiteful words from our chance encounter kept echoing in my head.

_"It's because I'm a disgrace. You feel like a failure. While all your siblings managed to produce wonderfully talented,__magical__young kids, you were saddled with a useless Squib! It's true, isn't it? You're ashamed of me__."_

To some extent I could see where she was coming from, and why she would think that. But beyond that...

I got up, abruptly letting go of that train of thought. I put on my coat and made my way out of the office, banging the door shut a little harder than I had intended to.

Molly was wrong, I clenched my fists. This wasn't my fault, and she couldn't get away with blaming me. Her lack of magic was simply an error - something had just gone wrong when her genetic make-up was being constructed.

It was a genetic mess up, nothing more.

My jealousy - whether it was present or not - was not a factor in her attention seeking escapade.

Because it had been just that, I realised. An attention seeking ploy - a chance for Molly to feel important, to feel like she was good enough.

And with that I shut those thoughts away, feeling immensely proud of myself that I was ready to forgive and forget my daughter's stubborn actions.

* * *

**A/N: I'm extremely unsure about this chapter. It almost got re-written...**

**Also guys, this story is going to jump around a lot. There's going to be a lot of overlapping since I'm going to switch around with the povs, and there's also going to be lots of flashbacks. For instance, last chapter the Azkaban scene ended at "Hello, Father," this chapter you've seen some more of it, and the rest of the scene will be shown in the next chapter. So you're really going to have to be on your toes. I hope it doesn't get too confusing. If it does, feel free to tell me, but the structure of this story is going to be really complicated. Just a warning.**

**I forgot to thank the reviewers last time, so here goes: Thank you to ****_JilyEvotter19, writer0906, LoopyToucan, Books are air, Silvers45, DreyMarley, snowingangels, Dancer6HOA _****and ****_thearcherballet._**

**Thank you to everyone who has added this to their favourites or alerts, too! You guys are the best. This is the best and quickest response I've gotten with a story so far, and I'm incredibly pumped up to keep writing - even though I was supposed to be studying!**

**A few of you also replied to my question about whether or not you would be interested in a tumblr and twitter about this story. The tumblr is in the making, but since I have absolutely no idea how to make my own html codes, I was waiting for my exams to end so my friend could help me out. As for the twitter, I might not have a whole account just dedicated to this story, but I'll post from my own account. The username's the same over there: unspeakable49. Tweet me if you start following for y&g, because if I get enough interested people, I'll start tweeting about this right away!**

**I don't want to make a tumblr/twitter for this if you guys aren't going to be involved, by the way. Because that would just be me fangirling over my own story then. :/ So, the first thing I want you guys to do if you're interested, is to send me in questions that you would want to ask the characters. Right now, I think there would only be stuff to ask Molly and Percy. It can be ANYTHING, but please don't say something like, "Why did you leave home?" which would totally ruin the story with its answer. I'll incorporate these into the character pages. :)**

**Long A/N, hopefully they'll get shorter! Don't forget to review and encourage me to write even faster. ;) - (Next chapter is almost complete!)**

**-Sana**


	4. Let The Drama Begin

**Chapter 3. Let The Drama Begin**

**Molly.**

* * *

Dad shuffled about awkwardly after releasing me from the stiff hug.

His partner, Goldstein, had graciously told him that he could have the day off to 'bond' with me. I had rolled my eyes at that. Dad hadn't changed at all - his approach was exactly the same. Although there was some regret there, I contemplated.

Maddy and Adrian had disappeared, leaving me no choice but to talk with Dad. The gits. Didn't they realise I didn't want this? I needed more time away from home to swallow my anger and bitterness.

But, no.

There's no such thing as space in the Weasley family. Everyone just crowds into each other's personal space. Just because they're okay with people barging into their personal lives doesn't mean I'm okay with it too!

"So, Dad," I trailed off, not knowing what to say after our heated discussion..

He shifted about some more, before asking, "That your boat?" He pointed towards Molly the Third.

I beamed. That was one subject I was willing to discuss with friend or foe.

"Yes, she is! Isn't she beautiful?"

He shot me a wary glance, and I caught the hints of an amused grin playing on his lips. "Yes, very beautiful. Why is she called Molly the Third though?"

I gave him an incredulous look. "Because I'm Molly the Second, named after Grandma, so obviously, my boat's going to be Molly the Third."

"Ah, yes. It makes so much sense now," he mumbled, clearly still concerned with my mental stability.

I shook my head at how hard he was trying to make everything seem ever so casual.

"I got to go now, Dad. Just ask Aidan or Maddy to scribble down the address for you; I don't have a piece of paper on me right now," I said.

He quickly pulled a notepad and a pen out of his pocket. I raised my brow at his efficiency, to which he gave a small smile.

Typical Dad, always prepared for everything, I thought, rolling my eyes internally. Except his daughter running away, my mind added bitterly. Stop it, I scolded myself. You need to stop this if you want to make things better.

But I don't, I protested.

Shut up.

I shook myself out of my thoughts. Talking to oneself is never a good sign.

I wrote down the address hurriedly. For a moment, I was tempted to write down a false address - just to throw them off again - but I quelled my desire and wrote down the correct one.

"Dad," I paused, not knowing how to phrase this. "I know you're angry at me, and well, even if you aren't, I'm still angry at you. It's not going to be sunshine and rainbows from now on, okay? I need space and I need time. And frankly, so do you. I don't think you've thought enough about what you did wrong." My lips twitched at the parent-like attitude I had adopted with my father. It was almost as if I had made him stand facing the wall in a corner, and now I was telling him that he hadn't completed his punishment properly.

Catching the frown on his face, I hesitantly added, "It was nice meeting you though."

"You too," he muttered, seemingly bitter.

"Bye," I said awkwardly, when he didn't say anything to explain his bitter mood.

"Bye," he replied, raising his eyes to meet mine. He gave me a small smile, which I returned hesitantly, before turning around and walking away.

* * *

It was difficult growing up as the only one who can't do magic in my family. I eventually got used to it, but there was always the occasional, "Molly darling, can you Accio the plates for dinner," followed by a chain apologetic words that had really lost their meaning for me.

I know it was difficult for them.

Dad never really understood how to deal with it, and Mum tried to be there for me, but there was always this underlying tension that just kept screaming, "Your daughter's a Squib!"

And even though my family tried, I didn't want them to anymore. I didn't want it to be an effort, something that didn't come naturally to them. I wanted to be part of the family because I fit in, not because everyone had to try to make me fit in.

The only person who didn't try was Lucy.

She hated me.

When we were small, we used to do everything together. We played together and told each other insignificant secrets. We were joined at the hip. We were best friends and sisters.

But then my magic didn't appear.

At first, Mum and Dad kept saying it was normal, and that some children didn't show signs of magic till later. But then things began exploding around Lucy, sparks flew and things around her began floating. Pretty soon, she managed to control her magic to get what she wanted, although there were still lots of accidents.

Lucy's magic opened up a whole new avenue of mischief for us. With a little bit of concentration, we could make water balloons drop on Dad's head just as he was leaving for work, or make Mum's hair stick up in the funniest of ways. It was a great laugh at first, and Lucy's magic only brought us closer.

Soon, though, I got sick of it. Since Lucy was the one doing the magic, she was the one who was always in charge of our 'missions'. It wasn't fair. I was the older sister. I was supposed to be the one in charge.

It was the final straw when it turned out I was a Squib. Lucy's magic, which had once brought us closer, was now the very cause of our failed relationship.

She thought she was better than me and didn't bother hiding it. And even though I knew she was right, the fact that she didn't even try to be subtle about it stung a lot…

It was that imbalance in our relationship that made it impossible for us to get along. After all, equality is the most important thing for any relationship to succeed.

While we had once been closer to each other than to anyone else, we soon became strangers, even while living in the same house.

I sighed, gazing blankly at the white washed wall of my living room.

Seeing Dad had certainly been unexpected, if nothing else. It had dug up issues that I hadn't paid heed to for two years.

Home... Mum, Dad... Lucy...

_Magic._

I had been ignoring everything for so long, and it had been a time of absolute bliss.

To simply forget and live.

But now... Now, I had to re-evaluate life, think over everything again. Make sure I was honest with myself as to where I stood and what my stance was.

I frowned heavily. Family feuds were the most tiresome and exhausting things ever. I hated them - and yet, I had spent most of my life fighting in one.

Everything had been building up to this, I realised. Whatever happened in these coming months was sure to decide how comfortable my relationship would be with my family in the future.

Yay, I thought sarcastically, rolling my eyes. Let the drama begin.

* * *

"Hey, Molly, how's your day going?" Marcia asked me, when I exited my office to leave for my lunch break.

"It's going good, Ma-"

"Excuse me," an impatient voice cut me off. "You're here to give information, not stand around and chat with your co-workers, if I'm not mistaken."

I turned around. A tall, broadly built man stood there, scowling at both of us. I raised my eyebrows discreetly at Marcia.

"Ah, sorry, sir. There was no one here when we began talking," I apologised politely, plastering a fake smile on my face. "Take your time." I stepped to the side, letting Marcia deal with the client.

I zoned out of the conversation. Taking out my cell phone, I began continuing the Temple Run game that I had been playing for two days now. New high score, here I come.

After a few minutes of intense maneuvering and jumping over obstacles, I pulled out of the virtual world and tuned back into the conversation taking place next to me.

"You don't understand," the man was saying. "My son needs help. He needs the best psychologist you have."

"Yes, sir, I heard you the first time; and I'm telling _you_ that our best is not available," Marcia answered patiently. "Now, what about Molly here? She has an incredible reputation."

I plastered a fake smile to my face, as they both turned to look at me. "Sorry, Marcia, I'm already scheduled. What about Anna?"

The man scowled. "I don't care about this little girl here. Haven't you been listening to me? I want a _male_ psychologist. My son has a- a reputation with women. I need someone who will stand up to him."

I narrowed my eyes, not appreciating being called a _'little girl'_.

"The best is not a male, I'm afraid," Marcia said firmly. "You can have one; either the best, or a male. Our best male is also occupied currently."

"Fine. Sign up whichever woman you think is capable of taking on my son. But I want a full refund if he manages to get the better of her," he growled, turning on his heel to leave.

"Fine," I retorted to his retreating back. I ignored Marcia's warning glare or the tight hold she had on my arm. "You're on."

The man ignored me and kept walking.

"Sign me up for his son." I told Marcia. "Who does that man think he is? Who does he think his son is? 'I want the best and I want a man,'" I mimicked. "Chauvinistic pig."

"I thought you were busy," Marcia said carefully.

"I am. But I'll make space for that arrogant bastard."

Marcia was silent for a minute. "Um, Molly... Is it your time of the month? You seem angrier than you should be at something so small."

"Maybe," I mumbled, not wanting to admit she was right. "But that has nothing to do with this. I am angry at the way he came in and walked and talked as if he owns this place."

"Okay, Molly," Marcia said, with a small smile.

I glanced at the clock. "And damn! My break's almost over. You wouldn't happen to have any food on you, would you? I don't think there's time for me to go and grab a bite."

Marcia rummaged through her bag. "Here's a muffin," she offered.

"Thanks, I'll take it!" I said gratefully.

"No problem, Molly."

* * *

"Ugh, Adele, I can't believe you convinced me to buy all this stuff," I groaned, placing the shopping bags in my room before walking out to join her in the living room.

Adele gasped dramatically. "Excuse me? You love shopping so much more than I do," she teased.

"I do," I admitted. "But I don't actually buy every pretty thing I see! I simply admire - from afar," I added.

"Yeah, and you end up buying nothing," she laughed. She kicked off her shoes and leaned back, sinking into the soft sofa.

"Do not," I protested, joining her on the sofa.

"Do too," she shot back, a smirk playing on her lips. "You think and you think and you think, and then you say, 'Oh, it's too expensive. I couldn't possibly.' And so you put it back on the rack and do the same thing for the next thing you like, so you basically end up wearing the same clothes again and again for months. Years probably, but I just haven't known you long enough."

I glared, not wanting to admit that was true.

"So, Aidan told me your father showed up for Ministry check on Wednesday," she said tentatively, looking up at me curiously.

I groaned. "What, he can never bother to contact you when I tell him to, and now he feels the need to give you every detail of my life?"

"I am your best friend," Adele pointed out, seeming a little offended that I would keep such an important incident from her.

Not that I would have hidden it from her... But I probably wouldn't have told her immediately either. I prefer stewing over my problems and analysing them from every angle, so I'm certain of how I feel about the situation, before I share it with anyone.

"Yes, but," I groaned again, burying my head into a cushion.

Adele laughed. "Your butt looks cute from here," she teased, since my butt was basically sticking into the air. "Okay, spill, I want to know everything," she added, when that didn't get a reaction.

I didn't move an inch, until I felt her pulling on my hair.

"Ouch," I yelled, clutching the back of my head. "What did you do that for?" I gave her the infamous Weasley glare that was supposed to make her quiver in her shoes.

"You weren't telling me, and I'm dying of curiosity," she said simply, smirking slightly at me.

My glaring had absolutely no effect on her. I suppose she's become immune to it after two years of being friends with me.

I sighed internally.

"Fine, I'll tell you," I grumbled, before beginning to recount my run-in with Dad.

Once I was done, I let out a huge sigh. "So what do you think? Should I give them a chance?"

Adele looked thoughtful for a minute. "I know you don't want to give them a chance. And I know that it would be absolutely heartbreaking for you if they didn't utilise their second chance well. You would feel betrayed beyond belief if things were exactly the way you left them. But at the same time, I know you're considering it. I know you. You give a lot of importance to blood and family, and thinking about it from that angle; I think it'd be worth giving it another shot."

I was quiet for some moments, mulling over her words. "That's true. But from Dad's words, it didn't really seem like he's realised why I left in the first place."

I looked up when Adele didn't answer. Seeing my look, she nodded hastily at me, then said, "Molly," she hesitated. "You're not completely faultless either, you realise that don't you?"

I let out a short laugh in disbelief. "How exactly am I at fault?" I smirked.

She gave me look which told me that she was dead serious. My smirk fell off my face.

"You think this is my fault?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, no, I'm not saying it's your fault or their fault, or anyone's fault, really! I'm just saying, a lot of things contributed to this, and some of _your_ actions probably did too."

I was silent as I took in what she had said, before shaking my head vigorously. "I don't think so, Adele. You haven't been around my whole life. I have done absolutely _nothing_ wrong. Everything that has happened has been their fault."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adele open her mouth to say something, but then she closed it abruptly as if she had thought better than to say what she had been about.

Good, I thought, because this whole mess had been their fault. It had always been their fault.

* * *

"Adele, get the damn door!" I shouted, poking my head out of the steaming bathroom. I had been taking my routine nightly shower, and the doorbell was ringing for the fourth time now. "Adele, move your arse now!" I yelled.

There was a thud and then a sudden scampering of feet.

"Sorry," Adele called out, as she ran past me. "I fell asleep."

Shaking my head, I slipped back into the bathroom and continued drying myself with my fluffy white towel. Knowing that Adele would deal with whoever was at the door, I took my time drying myself and then towelling my hair to get rid of most of the excess water.

Stepping out into the bedroom, I was met by an extremely unpleasant scene.

Jumping back into the bathroom and using the door as a shield, I exclaimed, "Can you two please not get it on in my room - on my _bed_!"

There was the loud smack of lips pulling away from one another and then a pause.

"Sorry Molly," Adele said sheepishly. "We'll move to the guest room."

"Keep it down or take it out of the house," I said. I really didn't want to hear my best friend having a heavy snogging session with her boyfriend.

Thinking it was safe to look now, I popped my head out an inch out of the door.

Spencer gave me an embarrassed smile as Adele dragged him out of my room.

I groaned. Really, when I had told Adele to make herself at home, I hadn't meant she could invite her boyfriend over and make out with him on my bed.

Really, my _bed_?

Rolling my eyes I opened my closet doors to pick out comfortable clothes for my girls' night in with Adele. Although it wouldn't be much of a girls' night until Spencer left.

Cursing, I bent down to retrieve an earring that I had dropped while rummaging through my jewellery box to choose something for tomorrow's work dinner.

"Molly, why is your towel-clad arse sticking out from under the bed?" I heard Adele ask dryly.

Groaning, I slid out, pearl earring in hand. "Dropped this," I explained, showing it to her.

"Where did Spencer go?" I asked, as I quickly changed into a pair of short shorts and a cute t-shirt that was now a size too small.

"I asked him to leave," she shrugged, flopping down onto my bed. "You sort of ruined the mood."

If that was supposed to make me feel guilty, it didn't work - not even a little bit.

I raised an eyebrow at her sarcastically, before joining her on the bed.

"So what shall we do?" she asked after a few moments of silence.

I shrugged. "Don't feel like doing much. Maybe a movie?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her turn her head to look at me. Meeting her eyes, I gave her a questioning look.

"You want to talk," she asked hesitantly, and yet I could tell she was absolutely sure that I wanted to talk.

Sighing I nodded. "I do."

She hugged me tightly.

"You can unload on me, Molly," she said sadly.

Nodding, I began talking to her.

* * *

**A/N: _cloverlover_ told me that I needed to work on adding more description and narrative to the story, so I tried to do that for this chapter. I hope it worked out. She also told me my A/Ns are too long and annoying, so I'm working on that too, lol.**

**Thank you to _lilylunaluver, Books are air, thearcherballet, Crazy's What I Aim For, cloverlover _and _Dancer6HOA_ for reviewing. :)**

**Quick question: Do you guys want me to add a "Coming Up" sort of feature at the end of the chapter?**

**-Sana**


	5. Conflicted Introspection

**Chapter 4. Conflicted Introspection**

**Molly.**

* * *

Nodding, I began talking to her.

"I'm confused," I sighed.

"That's understandable," Adele nodded.

I closed my eyes, folding my arms under my head on the pillow.

"My whole life, I've been on the outside. Well, not my whole life," I corrected. "The first few years of my life, till I was nine, were brilliant. They were _normal_. And then when I was nine, I found out I was a Squib. No magic. It was the end of the world for nine year old me."

I smiled ruefully, thinking back to the day we had found out I was a Squib.

* * *

_"Molly, dear, come down," my mother coaxed me. "It's time for dinner. Come down."_

_I stubbornly remained quiet, pretending I hadn't heard her. Sitting on the small chair we had up in the tree house, I gazed out of the window we had cut out of the wall facing away from the house._

_"Molly," Mum pleaded. "Please, we still love you. Don't be so upset, darling. These things happen."_

_Giving up my vow of silence, I asked, "Why won't Dad speak to me then? He doesn't love me."_

_"Your father does love you!" my mother exclaimed. "He's just dealing with it, sweetie. He's a lot like you - he needs his space to deal with things."_

_I remained silent. In my nine year old mind, it was crystal clear. Accepting that I was a Squib shouldn't have been hard on my father. And it wouldn't have been if he had loved me enough._

_Molly," Mum sighed, when she realised I wasn't going to answer her. "Molly, please come down."_

_Again, I refused to reply, hoping she'd leave me alone soon._

_The Healer's words kept echoing in my head._

_Your daughter is a Squib._

_From a nine year old's point of view, it seemed like the end of the world. For years, I had waited for my magic to show up, for accidents to start occurring around me._

_And it had never happened._

_Instead, I had to face the awful news that I was not a witch. Everything I had known my whole life - everything I had thought _myself_ to be - had been thrown into question. Although at the age of nine, person and identity had been too complex a concept for me to grasp, it greatly affected me as a person and what my personality developed to be._

_"Molly," Lucy called. I could tell she was climbing up the hanging rope ladder._

_Jumping up from my perch, I quickly slammed the trapdoor shut. I didn't want to see anyone right now._

_"Mum's calling you inside for dinner, Molly," Lucy said kindly. "Aren't you hungry?"_

_"No," I said, sullenly. "I don't want to talk, Lucy!"_

_"At least let me in," she said softly. "We don't have to go down."_

_After a few moments of stubborn silence, I bent down to open the trapdoor and let Lucy enter our small tree house._

_Lucy immediately scrambled inside and hugged my tightly. "Oh, Molly," she sobbed onto my shoulder._

_I held back my tears even though I wanted to burst into tears on my sister's shoulder so badly, just as she had burst into tears on mine. Even though it was my moment of grief, Lucy was the one crying enough for both of us._

_I cracked a small smile at that._

_It had always been that way. Lucy was always the more emotional and rash one out of the two of us. I was more like Dad, composed and collected, while Lucy was like Mum, more emotional and expressive._

_"How are you?" Lucy asked finally, sniffing softly._

_"Upset," I admitted. "I wanted to go to Hogwarts and learn spells and apparition and meet all the portraits .I wanted to experience everything that we've heard so much about. Mum and Dad have scheduled a series of tests with different Healers, though. They'll confirm if I have magic or not."_

_Lucy nodded sympathetically._

_We sat together, shoulder to shoulder, against the wall. Lucy rested her head on my shoulder. Smiling slightly, I rested my head on top of hers._

_My sister was the best._

_After a few moments, the silence became unbearable. Even though I appreciated the sisterly comradeship we were sitting in, there was too much tension in the air._

_"I'll go down," I gave in finally, if only to break the silence._

_Lucy beamed up at me and jumped to her feet at once. She made quick work of climbing down the ladder. I followed her at a much slower pace, dreading the moment I would have to face my father._

_Even then, I knew what he couldn't accept till today - my father was ashamed of me._

* * *

"Molly," Adele said, shaking me. "I think you fell asleep."

I shook my head. "Just zoned out."

We lay in silence for a bit, before Adele nudged me slightly. Taking it as a sign to continue, I began speaking again.

"After finding out I was a Squib, I was understandably upset. More than that, my father's behaviour was more upsetting for me. He didn't talk to me for a few days after we found out. Mum said it was because he didn't know how to accept it and deal with it." I shook my head regretfully. "Those few days- just a few days... He thought he would be able to stew over it alone and then decide how to deal with me; everything would be back to normal in our relationship. He didn't realise how much impact those _few_ days had."

Tears prickled the corner of my eye, and I brushed them away hastily. Adele stroked my hair comfortingly, a sad smile on her lips.

"It's okay to cry, Molly," she whispered. "I know this is a hard topic for you to go over."

I nodded, swallowing thickly.

"He was ashamed of me," I let out with a shuddering breath. I took a few moments to compose myself with deep calming breaths.

"He was ashamed of me," I repeated. "He's still ashamed of me. My father has a very competitive streak. He's always trying to be the best. He hates the fact that I ruined this for him. He feels like he's a failure for providing his child with the wrong genes."

"Oh, Molly," Adele said softly. "I'm sure that's not true."

I shook my head vigorously. "I wish it wasn't, but it is! I was hoping he would have realised his mistake these past two years - but he hasn't! Meeting him at Azkaban was just a reminder of it all."

Adele remained quiet.

"Do you still think I contributed to this mess?" I asked her after a while.

She shrugged. "I have a feeling there's more to your story than what you've just told me. You keep complaining about your family as a whole, not just your father. But right now, you've only mentioned what he did. What exactly did they do?" she asked curiously.

"Nothing. That's exactly it, nothing," I sighed. "They never made an effort."

"Are you sure you're not exaggerating?" Adele asked, giving me a pointed look.

"Okay," I admitted. "Maybe a little. They did try, but I didn't want to them to _try_ to make me fit in. I just wanted to fit in because I was one of them, because I was a Weasley. I wanted it to be natural. But that just didn't happen."

"It was probably difficult for them too," Adele said quietly.

"I know," I agreed. "But it was more difficult for me. Seeing my cousins go off to Hogwarts, something which had always been my dream, while I went to Muggle school. I learnt to accept it after a while - I didn't have a choice. Even at Muggle school though, things weren't easy."

"Most kids had started school a few years before me. I was behind the whole class. Everyone made fun of me. Stopping myself from making references to magic was even harder. How could I pretend that I didn't belong to a world which I was undoubtedly a part of?"

"And I hated that. I hated having to divide the two worlds I was suddenly a part of. I couldn't fit into the magical community and I couldn't fit into the Muggle community. I remember wishing; if only there was a place just for Squibs."

I stared up at the ceiling, my emotions raw and on the surface. I had never opened up so much to anyone about this subject.

"Wow, I can't imagine how hard it must have been on you. You were so small," Adele said softly. She hugged me and gave me comforting kiss on the cheek.

I turned my head and smiled at her.

"I think I understand now why it's so difficult for you to go back," Adele commented after a few minutes of silence. "You're scared you're going to get your heart broken all over again."

"I am," I agreed softly. "Mum always said I was so strong for dealing with everything so well. I always smiled and agreed with her on the outside, but I don't think I'm strong enough to go through it twice."

"You are very strong," Adele paused. "You know, I'd be so proud of you if you told your parents you were willing to give them a chance. But I understand why you probably won't."

"Tell me, do you still think I contributed to this mess?" I repeated my question from earlier. For some indescribable reason, Adele's answer was vital to me.

She looked thoughtful for a few moments. "I think that while they seem to be mostly at fault - which is what I've gathered from _your_ version, by the way - I still think you might have had some fault there too. For one you could have talked to them. Something tells me you didn't do much of that."

She raised an eyebrow at me, causing me to blush. It was true; I hadn't tried talking to them.

"Okay, even if I didn't try talking to them. They could have tried talking to me!" I exclaimed defensively.

"Molly, think of it from their perspective. Do you think they _wanted_ to hurt you? They tried. They needed help from you. But you didn't give them any – just the way you feel they didn't give you any help," she finished sadly.

After a few seconds, I turned on my side, facing away from Adele. Silently, I closed the lamp beside me and closed my eyes.

It was unspoken gesture that this conversation was over for now.

Sighing, Adele closed the lamp next to her. She was asleep within ten minutes, but I found it difficult to fall asleep as easily as she had.

Even when I did doze off, my dreams were plagued with memories and family members telling me they had tried their best and that I had been at fault.

* * *

"Hello, Molly. I've been waiting for you," Matt said, as I walked into the clearing in front of the towering building of Azkaban.

"Hey, Matt," I replied. "Sorry for the wait."

"It was nothing," he said, waving my apology away. "Don't want a repeat of your last visit. Are you done with your sessions here today?"

I nodded. "I just wanted to catch up with Aidan for a bit though. Sorry you had to wait uselessly. I'll just ask Aidan to help me to the boat," I said, apologetically. I truly appreciated what Matt did for me and I hated making him wait unnecessarily for me.

"Sounds good," he shrugged with a smile.

Waving goodbye he walked away to the small shack where he sits. I waved back, before turning around to go look for Aidan.

Matt was in charge of monitoring the influx of visitors to Azkaban. There weren't many, but he took care of the Ministry workers that came for the check-ups and the Aurors that came to deposit new inmates of Azkaban. He was also incredibly helpful to me, as he usually cast the Patronus Charm for me to help me cross the Dementors easily.

"Aidan, there you are," I called, spotting him near the gateway.

He hugged me tightly, causing a little bit of surprise within me. Aidan and I are very comfortable around each other, but we usually don't hug like we haven't met in a few hundred light years when we see each other.

"Something wrong?" I asked him lightly when he finally let go of me from the hug.

"Just thought you might need one of my famous Aidan-hugs," he winked, placing an arm around my shoulders and squeezing me tightly again.

"Oh, please, I'm perfectly alright," I said, pulling away and punching his arm.

He winced dramatically and made a hurt face.

I rolled my eyes at his antics. "Stop it, you're not even hurt," I said.

"And apparently, neither are you," he commented.

I studied him silently. "You think I'm lying to you?"

He pretended to look thoughtful for a minute. "No - I just think you're lying to yourself," he shrugged. "Be honest, you're hurting, aren't you?"

"I was," I told him truthfully. "But yesterday, Adele slept over and we had a real heart-to-heart. I feel much better now."

"Oh, so you talked to my sister, but you wouldn't talk to me?" he asked, pretending to look offended at that. When I only bothered to roll my eyes at him, he gave that act up.

"I'm just happy you talked to someone," he said, smiling at me.

"I'm happy too," I replied, hiding my uncertainty.

After talking to Adele, it was clear she disagreed with me on the topic of my family. She thought I should forgive and forget and move on - or at least try as much. I knew that was impossible, so what was the point in even trying?

This morning, things had been a little tense between me and Adele. There was mostly silence until she left for work, leaving me to get ready and hop into my boat for Azkaban.

I didn't think I could deal with Adele's silence right now, on top of everything else. On the other hand, if I did fix things with her, then I know she'd push me into getting back into touch with my family. Aidan would do the same.

I couldn't help but wonder - was it such a good idea to talk to Adele about all this? After all, I didn't want to be pushed into any decision that I took.

Aidan seemed to sense what direction my thoughts were taking and he soon changed the topic.

"How was Greyback? Did he agree to the Ministry's terms?" he asked quietly.

"Hmm? Yeah, yeah, he did," I replied, still a little distracted. "Wait, what? No, no, he didn't."

"Really, Molly?" Aidan said, amused. "Which one was it? Agreed or disagreed?"

Laughing sheepishly, I said, "Disagreed - although I got the feeling it was mostly for the sake of disagreeing rather than anything else. He's stuck in a rut. He knows he has nowhere to go, but he's being stubborn."

Aidan nodded. "That sounds like Greyback."

I murmured in agreement.

We stood in comfortable silence for a bit.

"I have to go. Can you please cast your Patronus?" I asked.

"Sure," Aidan replied easily. "Molly, before you go, just one thing."

I turned to give him a quizzical look. "Yes?"

He took a step towards me and tipped my chin up to meet his eyes. I was a little startled by his actions, but didn't show it.

"Please talk. Don't keep your emotions bottled up," he said softly.

Nodding, I stepped back.

"Good," he murmured.

* * *

"Hey, Marcia," I said cheerfully, when I entered the work building on Wednesday.

"Hello, Molly," she greeted. "Shall I take your coat for you? I was just going to go keep mine."

"Thanks that would be great. Is my ten o'clock here yet?" I asked.

"No," she replied. "Though if you ask me, judging from what his father was like, he's bound to be as arrogant as they come. He'll be late, mark my words." She nodded knowingly.

"I know, I was thinking along the same lines," I laughed, "Although I do have a lot of paperwork and filing to do. Maintaining patient files is so boring," I groaned dramatically.

Laughing Marcia left the reception to keep our coats in the small room next door.

It was almost half an hour and lots of filing later that there was a knock on my door. Marcia peeped inside.

"He's here - and he's damn hot!" she added in a giggly whisper.

I motioned for her to come inside. "How hot," I chuckled.

"So hot," she squealed.

Laughing, I said, "Wow, we're so immature. Let him in."

Sitting behind the desk, I put on my best professional mask and tried to look busy. Even though Marcia and I usually weren't so 'boy-crazy', there were times when we let our silly sides take over.

There was the soft click of the door and then the noise of someone clearing his throat.

I looked up. If Marcia hadn't warned me about his looks, my mouth would probably have fallen open.

With deep brown eyes and equally dark hair, coupled with an athletic build and an incredibly fair complexion, the man before me was beyond handsome.

Not wanting to fall into a daze and ruin the professional atmosphere I worked hard to maintain in my office, I quickly snapped out of it and stopped assessing his appearance.

"Hi, I'm Molly," I introduced, offering my hand across the desk for him to shake.

Throwing a disarming smile at me, he shook the proffered hand.

Now I knew what his father meant when he said his son had a reputation with women. I could totally imagine this man as a womaniser, sleeping with a different woman each night.

Keeping my thoughts and opinions aside, I shifted into psychologist mode. No judging, I reminded myself.

One of the first things they teach to psychology students is the _'No Judging'_ rule. Once a patient enters the room, they expect a fully unbiased and indifferent attitude from us. Even one hint of a judgemental attitude can destroy the patient's trust forever.

As I went through the general line of questions, I noted that he was every bit his father's son as we had assumed he would be. He answered every question with short, cocky answers and I really had to push him to reveal more. His smirk was ever present, as was a raised eyebrow.

"So you're addicted to drugs," I concluded finally, looking him square in the eye.

From my previous questioning, I had deduced that I would have to use a more direct approach from him, otherwise we'd never get anywhere.

"That's not exactly how I'd put it," he said smirking slightly. "But please, I know what to do. I've received help before."

Ignoring his remark, I scanned the notes I had taken while speaking to him.

"Your father made it seem like you had a more serious issue," I said, frowning slightly.

Although drug addiction is a very serious problem, it's hardly the type of issue that requires 'the best male' psychologist. I had imagined he would have a much more serious problem that would require every ounce of information I had learnt at university to tackle.

He shrugged. "My father doesn't know what's 'wrong' with me. He's not there enough." He rolled his eyes.

There were a few seconds of silence, as I tried to come up with the best way to respond to that. I wondered what would be the best tactic to tackle the problem.

Patients who refused to accept their problems were common. However, it usually wasn't difficult to begin the process of getting them to confront their issues, since family members and friends were usually able to give us a good report of the symptoms the patient had displayed. These were usually the key to putting together the puzzle pieces and finding out the problem.

"So can I leave then?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow confidently.

"No, we still have twenty minutes to go," I replied, checking the clock.

"Please?" he asked, rather sweetly.

I looked up to stare at him for a few moments, before realising what he was doing.

"Are you pouting?" I asked dryly, raising an eyebrow at his immaturity.

"I don't pout, I smolder," he replied arrogantly.

"Really? You smolder?" I said.

"It gets me what I want," he smirked. "Don't deny it, you think I'm bloody hot," he winked

I leaned against the back of the armchair and gave him an appraising look. He mimicked my posture with his ever present smirk.

"Yes, I do," I agreed, "Doesn't mean I'm in love with you though or that I'll shirk my duties as your psychologist, which is apparently what your previous counsellors have done."

"Oh, so you've got guts," he said, in a condescending tone.

He reached into his back pocket for something. "I would have loved to conquer a fiery red head, but unfortunately I don't have time to evade you and your _understanding_ ways of getting me to quite drugs and alcohol. I didn't want to do this, but I figure this is a Muggle establishment so it won't really make a difference. Impe-"

"Stop it!" I shouted, jerking away his wand, which he had pulled out from his pocket and was now brandishing at me. "You can't Imperio me!"

"You know about magic!" he exclaimed in shock.

"Yes, I do. And that spell is _highly_ illegal. What were you thinking?" I replied, equally shocked at his behaviour.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Just please don't tell the authorities."

"I am the authority," I told him, just to see his expression. Priceless. I smirked internally. Finally - _Molly, one; Son of a bitch, zero_. "I work at Azkaban. So if you don't want to end up in a cell there for one of the Unforgiveables, then I suggest you lay off the wand."

He nodded in agreement, his eyes still wide with surprise. I cheered internally. Finally, I had the upper hand in our conversation.

"What are you doing here then?" he asked, curiously, sitting back down on the chair.

"I work at Azkaban twice a week, so I work here for the remaining three days," I said, giving him only part of the reason why I had two jobs.

Not wanting to stay on this particular topic for long, I placed his file on the table before me and took out a pen.

"I'm going to ask you a few more questions now," I told him. "I'm usually not so direct, but I have a feeling tackling your problem won't be easy if I use subtlety."

He smirked at me. Does he ever stop smirking, I wondered in irritation.

I breezed through the questions until finally it was time for him to go. I told him to schedule another appointment with Marcia at the reception.

I was putting my notes for the session away when Marcia burst into the room.

"So, how was it?" she asked, stretching out the 'so'. She waggled her eyebrows at me.

Laughing I swatted her lightly with the file. "Aren't you supposed to be working?" I reminded her.

She waved her hand casually. "I'm on a break. So I thought I'd come interrogate you about Mr. I'm-So-Hot-I-Could-Fry-Eggs-On-My-Head."

I burst out laughing at that. "Seriously, Marcia? Frying eggs? That's not such an appealing metaphor to use for his good looks."

"It was the best I could come up with," she replied, making a face at me.

Still laughing at her, I decided to answer her question. "It was fine, normal. There was no hot sex on the desk, if that's what you were hoping for."

"Damn, that's exactly what I wanted," she giggled. "What's his name?"

"Elliot. Elliot Toulson."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to ****_Books are air_****, ****_Dancer6HOA_**** and ****_thearcherballet_**** for reviewing the last chapter.**

**I have two pieces of good news (YAY). One, the blog I was making for this story is now ready – as in, presentable. I'd really appreciate it if you checked it out and left your opinion there, since I'm new to tumblr and just trying to keep things together at the moment. The link is on my profile here. Two, if you remember, I started another story, ****_And Then It All Changed_****, also when I started ****_Yellow And Grey._**** It is very much possible that I will put AATIAC on hold and complete YAG first, which means MORE UPDATES!**

**By the way guys, this is the LONGEST chapter so far, with just three words under 4000!**

**Do leave a review and check out the blog. :)**

**-Sana**


	6. Sisterly Troubles

**Chapter 5. Sisterly Troubles**

**Lucy.**

* * *

_Your father and I do wish you would visit us more often. Speaking of which, will you be able to come over for dinner tomorrow? We have something to tell you._

Wondering what could be so important that my mother couldn't have written it in her letter, I stepped into the green flames in the fireplace to floo to my parents' house.

"Percy, check if Lucy's here! I just heard the floo," I heard Mum calling from the kitchen.

"Alright, dear," Dad's voice floated down from upstairs.

I heard footsteps on the staircase, and then Dad stepped into the living room.

"Hello, Dad," I greeted, hugging him. He hugged me back tightly - tighter than usual, which made me think again about what my parents had to tell me.

"Lucy," Mum exclaimed happily, when we entered the kitchen. We hugged. "Sit," she said, guiding me into a chair.

I protested, adamantly stating that I should help her out with the food.

Giving in to my insisting, she laughed and let me help prepare the cake batter for dessert.

"Do you want some salad, dear?" Mum asked, offering me the large salad bowl as we sat down for dinner later on.

Accepting the bowl, I served myself and then passed the dish onto Dad. We chewed in a few moments of silence.

"So what do you have to tell me?" I blurted out finally.

Mum and Dad exchanged looks - looks that immediately put me on my guard. I narrowed my eyes, waiting for one of them to let me onto the secret.

"Lucy," Mum said quietly, laying her hand on mine. "You're not going to be happy, but please, hear us out."

"Okay..." I said suspiciously.

Dad sighed. "Lucy... We've found Molly."

There was pin drop silence for a moment. It was suddenly broken when I dropped my cutlery on my plate.

"You're joking," I said, in a deadly quiet voice.

They simultaneously shook her heads.

"Did you accept her back?" I asked, still not letting any emotions creep into my voice.

Mum nodded, while Dad hesitated. I turned my head to look at him.

"Dad?" I pushed, wanting to hear what he had to say.

"It was more of a question of her accepting us," he sighed remorsefully.

Unable to stand it any longer, I stood up and threw my napkin onto my plate of uneaten salad.

"I can't believe you two," I said, finally letting my anger show. "After how she's acted her whole life, and then the hell she's put you two through these past two years, you just accepted her with open arms? I just- it's beyond me. Why, why, why! Why did you do it? She's arrogant. She's uptight. She's conceited and self-centred. I hate her! I thought _you_ hated her!"

"Enough," Mum snapped. I reeled back in shock. Mum rarely lost her temper at us. "That is your _sister_ you're talking about. Why, you ask? She is our _daughter_. She's family. And that should be reason enough to accept her back with open arms."

"But she left you! She left you, she left me. She left all of us without a second thought. She never looked back. And when we wondered why, the answers she shot back at us placed all the blame on us!"

"How was it our fault? We tried! We did our best to help her fit in when she found out she had no magic. But she shunned us - she never let us help her, thinking she was too good to need our help."

I glared at them angrily. How could they? How could they accept Molly back as if she had done no wrong. She was their daughter and they were her parents. She was my sister and I was hers. The relationships had to work both ways. She couldn't expect us to uphold our side of the relationship, while she did nothing!

"You never tried, Lucy," Mum yelled back. "It was all _us_! What did you do for your sister? Nothing. She left, yes. But it's quite possible that she realised she made a mistake and that she wants to come back now!"

"Fine," I admitted, holding my hands up. "I didn't try. I don't want to confront you guys about that right now though. _You_ tried. Why didn't she?"

"Lucy," Dad cut in quietly. Up till now he had been standing silently to the side while I shouted and ranted.

"I understand that you're unhappy about accepting Molly back into this family. I completely understand. I feel the same way. Unfortunately, there are no other options. We have to consider the possibility that she wants to make things better. Although… I am on your side, Lucy," he finished softly. He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye.

I nodded. Suddenly overcome by my emotions, I swallowed thickly, and blinking back tears, I flung my arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"Wait a minute," Mum said angrily. "Sides? There are no sides!"

Pulling out of our hug a little, Dad turned to look at Mum and said, "You're right, dear. _If_ there are ever sides, I think I'll be on Lucy's. This is Molly's last chance. I've had enough of her, and her self-centred drama."

* * *

Raymond stroked my hair softly. I was lying on his bed with my eyes closed. I gripped his hand tightly, squeezing my eyes to prevent the tears from escaping.

"Maybe you can tell your parents that you're not comfortable meeting her," he suggested. The genuine sympathy and affection on his face made me want to cry even more.

I shook my head vigorously from side to side.

"It isn't like that in the Weasley family. Everyone _has_ to love everyone; everyone _has_ to care and participate. My parents won't accept that as an excuse. They'll tell me to start over, give her a second chance and make an effort. Mum's already defending her. She won't listen to me!"

He nodded, but I could tell there was something on his mind.

"What?" I questioned.

He hesitated. "Would it really be so bad if you gave your sister this chance? You said your father agrees with your point of view. And yet, he was the one who made the first step to approach Molly. If he can do it, then maybe you can too."

"No," I said, even before he had finished. "No. I won't. I can't."

He remained quiet and continued stroking my hair.

"They just -" I let out a shuddering breath, trying to stop the tears that threatened to overflow. It didn't work, and soon I was sobbing violently in Raymond's arms.

He rubbed my back and hugged me tightly. Pressing soft kisses to my face, he whispered words of comfort.

"Sh, it's okay. It's all going to be fine."

"No, no it's not! They love her more than they love me! They always have. They always give her more attention -extra attention - as if having magic makes me capable of solving all my problems and living life perfectly. Being a Squib doesn't make her deformed or disabled, but they always treat her that way - they always try to make everything easier for her, and never for me!" I sobbed, shaking uncontrollably.

"I hate her! I wish she would never come back! I was so happy when she left; when she finally showed Mum and Dad her true colours. I was their favourite. I was hoping they'd realise what a bitch she really is, how she doesn't actually deserve any of their love or concern."

"But now she's back. They've found her. And they're going to let her use them all over again. It's disgusting! I want my parents to see sense! I want them to see what she's really like!"

"I was her best friend - I know her best. I know her better than they do. I know she's going to leave again. As soon as she thinks things aren't going the way she wants them to, she'll throw a tantrum and storm out of the door. She wants everything to be about her. She has Mum and Dad wrapped around her little finger, and she knows it!"

My body shuddered with dry sobs as I thought back to when we were little.

* * *

_I was waiting for Molly to arrive from her Muggle school and tell me about her day as she always did. Lying on the wooden floor of our cosy little tree house, I softly hummed a song I had heard Aunt Ginny singing the other day._

_There was a noise below me. Thinking it was Molly, I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. Molly loved to sneak up on me and scare me. If she was having a bad day, it would really cheer her up. And if she was already having a good day, it would make it even better._

_Suppressing a small smile that threatened to break lose at the thought of my sister's joy, I lay silent and in suspense, waiting for her to sneak up on me._

_Instead of my sister jumping on me and tickling me relentlessly, I was met by a startled exclamation from my father._

_My eyes shot open and I sat up straight._

_"Lucy," he said, looking at me with surprise, indicating that he had clearly not expected me to be here. Clearing his throat, he said after a moment, "It's time."_

_"Dad?" I questioned with surprise, staring at his head sticking out of the trapdoor. "I thought it was Molly."_

_"She has an extra class after school and then she's going to her friend's house," he told me. "She must have mentioned it?"_

_"No, she didn't," I replied, shaking my head slowly. I tried to hide my hurt at not having known this fact_

_Molly and I always used to share these little things, but lately she seemed to have been pulling away. We were growing more and more distant, day by day, and I could no longer deny it._

_Dad gave me a sympathetic look, as he pushed his weight onto his hands and heaved himself up into the tree house through the trapdoor. He stood there awkwardly, and seemed to be waiting for something._

_Processing his words from earlier, I stood up, a little confused. "What did you mean by 'it's time'?" I asked, with what I was sure was a baffled expression on my face._

_Dad looked surprised for a second, before turning his gaze away from me. He stared out of the cut out window. I could tell he was avoiding something._

_"I thought you knew," he mumbled, so softly that I almost didn't catch it. Coughing awkwardly, he finally met my eyes. "The tree-house is being taken down."_

_I blinked in shock._

_"What? That's not possible. Molly and I love this place," I said in a rushed and choked voice._

_Dad shuffled about looking embarrassed. Shrugging almost casually, he said, "She's the one who told me that she doesn't want this here anymore. She wants to have something else here – a bigger tree-house of sorts… which she can then use as her bedroom…"_

_I stood there in stunned at what I was hearing._

_The tree house meant everything to me - and I thought it meant something to Molly too. We had so many childhood memories in here – so many moments when we had giggled together as we hid from Mum and Dad, so many moments when one of us had been upset and only agreed to talk to the other._

_It was all such an_ essential_ part of my childhood. I just couldn't comprehend how Molly could have so selfishly told Dad to take down this tree house and replace with a_ bedroom _for her. Why did she want to move out of the house in the first place? She was only eleven._

_In complete and utter astonishment I climbed down the rope ladder hanging from the trapdoor and landed on the grass below with a soft thud. Dad followed me down. I blinked back tears as he began casting spells to take the tree house apart._

_"Are you going to let her move out?" I asked quietly after a few moments of silence between us._

_He turned to look at me. Seeing my obviously distressed expression, he stuffed his wand into his pocket for a moment and hugged me tightly._

_"I know you're upset, Lucy, but this is what Molly wants. She's not going to be moving into this right now – for Merlin's sake, she's only eleven! But soon, when she's a little older, I don't think a little space will do her any harm. We'll still be able to keep an eye on her, of course," Dad explained gently. Pulling his wand out, he continued with the spell work._

_But all of what he had said was lost on me. I had stopped listening after_ 'this is what Molly wants'._ Anger overtook me and I stamped the ground in fury._

_"What Molly wants! What about what I want?" I asked him furiously._

_Dad stopped short with his work once again. "Lucy, I don't think you understand. See-"_

_"No, I understand perfectly," I shouted with as much ferocity as a nine year old can muster up. "You don't care about what I want. It's all about Molly - again!"_

_"Don't you take that tone with me, young lady," Dad said, a warning note present in his voice. "Your sister is a Squib! She is missing out on this whole world that you are a part of! The least you can do is go along with what she wants, instead of selfishly insisting on what you want!"_

_With angry tears prickling my eyes, I glared at him as best as I could, turned my back, and stomped into the house._

_Lying on my bed later on, I couldn't stop the tears from leaking out. Why did my father love her more than he loved me? I was the one who could do magic, I was the one who could carry on the Weasley-Potter family legacy of accomplishing great things._

_Not Molly._

_I turned on my side to face the window looking out into the garden once I thought I was done crying over Dad's words. Suddenly, the empty tree where our tree house once used to be caught my eye. The tears started pouring out once again, and I spent the rest of the afternoon holed up in my bedroom sobbing into my pillow._

* * *

Raymond didn't say anything as I reminisced and cried in his arms. He only pressed a soft kiss on my lips silently.

We kissed for a while and he tried to pass on his love and care to me through our joined lips. I tried to let him know how grateful I was for his love and support.

Threading my fingers in his hair, I poured in all my bitter feelings into the kiss, trying to let his love wash over me.

When we pulled out of our embrace, he said, "I'm sure there's more to the story. This is how you feel, unfortunately. No one's parents make their child feel that way on purpose."

He cupped my face and looked me straight in the eye. "Talk to them. They need to understand how you feel. Do it when this thing with your sister settles down a little."

I nodded tearfully.

"I love you, Ray."

Smiling, he kissed me again. We lay in comfortable silence for a while, until Raymond started shifting around. Knowing there was something on his mind; I sighed and asked him as much.

"I'm just not getting your father in all this. You said he clearly admitted that he's had enough of your sister, and yet, you also said that he won't let you avoid her. What's the deal?" he questioned, frowning slightly.

"I know - it's confusing. He loves Molly because she's his daughter. He feels awful because he and Mum are the only ones who can be blamed even a little; their genes make Molly's DNA, which makes her a Squib," I explained. "At the same time, he also thinks that Molly dragged this Squib thing to unnecessary proportions. He's angry at her because she made him look like a horrible father by leaving home. He's angry because he thinks she did it for attention."

I sighed unhappily. "He thinks he doesn't love her, but he does! He doesn't know how to show both his love and anger. Molly's never really done anything _bad_ in his eyes, because he never really found out about some of the dodgy stuff she did in the Muggle world. Now that she _has_ done something bad he understands, he doesn't know how to deal with it."

Raymond nodded slowly, trying to process everything I had just said. "So he's basically confused?"

"In short, yes. I think everyone involved in this is confused at the moment. I guess we'll know where to go from here once we meet Molly in person," I concluded, shrugging.

There really wasn't much we could do till we sat down and talked with Molly. Dad said the best thing to do while we waited for Molly to agree to meet us, would be to be clear up about how we felt about the situation. Reflect and understand. That was easier said than done.

To be honest, I missed what I had with my sister, once upon a time. If I could have that again, I would do anything for it.

But I knew the solution wasn't mending my relationship with Molly. It wasn't a person or a relationship that I really missed, but a _time_.

A time when we climbed up into our tree-house to escape Mum and Dad. A time when we could simply jump into the puddles of rainwater and get splashed by mud, only to have Mum scolding us later on. A time when we were too little to care and too small to get involved in big fights.

A time when we didn't know that Molly was a Squib...

* * *

My father and mother stood up as dessert was being served at the Weasley Sunday brunch at the Burrow.

Oh no, I thought. I had a sinking feeling of what was about to come.

"We have an announcement to make," Mum said, smiling brightly.

Grandmum squealed loudly. "You're pregnant!"

Being the rowdy and presumptuous bunch that Weasleys are, shouts of joy and congratulations immediately broke out upon hearing this, despite the chances of this news being near to impossible.

Really, Molly's twenty-two, I'm nineteen. What do they expect, I thought, shaking my head in amusement.

"I'm not pregnant!" Mum shouted over the din, trying to get her voice heard.

After many repeated cries of that statement from both Mum and Dad, there was abrupt silence, before Grandmum let out a small 'Oh'.

"We've found Molly," Dad declared to the suddenly quiet room.

There were gasps and murmurs of 'really'. Mum nodded tearfully to the room at large.

Then there was sudden activity, as everyone managed to process what Dad had just announced. The women jumped up to hug Mum and congratulate her, while the men peppered Dad with questions as to how exactly they had managed to locate Molly. All the cousins, however, immediately swivelled their eyes towards me, as if to assess my reaction.

I shrugged casually. There would be no point in voicing my opinion at the table in front of the whole Weasley brood. The only outcome would be chaos and eventually another row with my parents, Mum especially.

Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I listened to my Dad recounting the incident when he had bumped into Molly at Azkaban.

Fitting setting for a miserable event, I thought bitterly.

"Lucy," Rose whispered from diagonally across. "Are you okay?"

I saw Dominique and Lily giving me concerned looks. "I'm fine," I said, taking a deep breath. "Upset, unhappy, displeased, but there's nothing I can do. Might as well deal with it." I shrugged, trying to seem more indifferent than I felt.

Lily placed her hand on mine. "We understand, you know. We know how upset you were when she left. You can come talk whenever you need to," she offered.

Nodding gratefully, I tuned back into the conversation Dad was carrying out with Uncle Bill.

"How's Lucy taking it," Uncle Bill asked in a hushed tone.

"She's not happy with the turn of events, obviously," Dad replied. "She doesn't have much of a choice though. I understand where she's coming from, because I have the same perspective to some extent, but I can't give in to her and turn Molly away. Audrey's been a complete mess without her."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Uncle Bill nodding.

"Are you sure there's nothing more to Lucy's anger than just despising Molly's attitude, like you do? Maybe some sibling rivalry?" Uncle Bill suggested.

I sucked in a breath at how close his remark hit home.

After a moment, Dad replied, "No, I'm sure. Lucy would have confided in us. Unlike Molly, we're pretty close to her."

I stopped listening after that.

I wasn't sure whether to be relieved that Dad didn't think there was more to this than just petty anger, or to be upset that my own father didn't realise something was wrong when even my uncle could pick up on it.

* * *

**A/N: So how did you all like your first taste of Lucy Ginevra Weasley? By the way, this is the shortest chapter (other than the prologue) so far. There was one more scene I wanted to add, but it was just getting repetitive, with Lucy basically voicing the same concerns that she does with Raymond.**

**Thanks to ****_LoopyToucan_**** and ****_thearcherballet_**** for reviewing the previous chapter.**

**I'm honestly a bit disappointed with how stagnant the stats for this story have become. I haven't gotten any new favourites or follows (except one), and basically the same people are reviewing each chapter. I was wondering if I'm developing the story well, or if it's not going the way people expected it to? Feedback will be appreciated.**

**Another thing I wanted to mention was that I'm going to be re-writing the prologue of this story. I want to do something along the lines of the prologue and epilogue of ****_My Sister's Keeper_****. I'm just waiting for inspiration and I will let you know when I post up the new version.**

**Just a reminder, the tumblr for this story is ready. The link is on my blog. I'd like it if you could check it out, since I worked kind of hard on it. J**

**Don't expect the next update any time soon, by the way. For the first time, I have nothing planned for the next chapter, although I do have the following two or three chapters planned out. Good luck to me!**

**-Sana**


	7. The Right Choice

**Chapter 6. The Right Choice**

**Molly.**

* * *

Nearly a month had passed since, my run in with Dad at Azkaban. I had shut my problems in a small compartment in my mind, hoping that I wouldn't have to confront them any time soon. Sometimes it all seemed like a horrible dream that my subconscious had concocted, but then Aidan or Adele would mention some of what I had discussed with them about my feelings, and I would remember that it was all real.

My blissfully induced ignorance did not last long, however, and one Thursday morning when I saw a tawny barn owl flying towards my window, I knew that my parents had decided to approach me.

At least they didn't decide to show up on my doorstep in person, I thought gratefully, as I untied the letter from the owl's outstretched leg.

The owl cocked its head to once side. It seemed to look at me expectantly.

"What?" I snapped. "I don't have any treats, if that's what you're expecting."

It hooted once, before taking flight again.

"Stupid wizards and their animals. Way too clever for their own good," I grumbled. Walking into the living room, I fell back onto a sofa, before opening up the letter. My mother's handwriting covered the piece of parchment.

_Dear Molly,_

_It's so lovely to be able to talk to you again. I've missed you terribly these past two years, darling. Your father told me about what happened at Azkaban and also of your heated discussion with him._

_I understand that you're still angry, dear, but this argument cannot go on forever. You are a fully grown young woman, so of course it is not a question of you moving back in with us; but it would be nice for you to get back into touch with us. It's my greatest wish for us to be a _family_ again._

_So, for us to begin healing as a family, we'd like you to join us for lunch this Sunday. We usually go to the Burrow for Sunday brunch, but the plan's been cancelled this week, because Harry and Ron are on an Auror mission, and Ginny and Hermione are taking a trip to a friend's house on an exotic island somewhere._

_Anyway, think about it carefully, love. You have your father's logic and rational thinking process, so I know I can have faith in you to think this through thoroughly. At the same time, you also have your father's red head temper, and you are both known for taking rash decision at times._

_Please don't let this be one of those times._

_Love,_

_Mum._

Pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration and annoyance, I dropped the letter on the floor next to me. After a few minutes, I got up to make myself a cup of coffee and some waffles for breakfast.

Sometimes, my mother was way too persistent for her own good. Honestly, all I ask for is space, and that's the exact thing she refuses to give me! Mothers, I thought, shaking my head.

It was only after I had finished preparing breakfast that I let myself think about Mum's letter once again. Retrieving it from the floor of the living room, I sat down to read it once again over my morning cup of coffee and pile of waffles.

My 'heated discussion' with Dad, I snorted, a little way into the letter. I bet Dad didn't tell you the exact words of the 'discussion', Mum, I thought sarcastically.

Just then the bell rang. Grumbling once more, I got up to open the door, leaving my delicious plate of waffles on the kitchen table.

"Aidan," I greeted humourlessly, scowling at him when he greeted me enthusiastically in reply. "Why are you here?"

Leaving the door open, I walked back into the kitchen to my breakfast.

"Wow, someone's in a bad mood. I'm guessing you haven't had breakfast yet?" he guessed, smirking at me. Pulling the chair across from mine, he sat down on it casually. He grabbed a waffle and began munching on it.

"Hey," I protested. "That was mine!"

"Well, it's mine now," he shrugged. "It's in my tummy."

"Tummy?" I raised an eyebrow sardonically. "Really? Aren't you too old to call your stomach, 'tummy'?"

"Who, me? But I'm so young," he kidded. "Seriously, you need to relax. I know you're not a morning person, at least until you've got some food in you, but you can't snap at everyone who comes your way."

Glaring at him, I turned my attention back to my plate.

"What this?" he asked, picking up Mum's letter.

"Nothing," I said immediately, snatching the parchment out of his hands.

"Now that is clearly something," he said, raising an eyebrow at my jumpy behaviour.

Knowing there was no point in hiding it from him; I sighed and dropped the letter back onto the table. Smirking slightly, he picked it up and scanned its contents quickly.

His only comment was "Wow", which made me curious.

"You really have nothing more to say," I questioned, getting up to put the dirty dishes in the sink.

Shrugging, he replied, "Honestly? I was expecting something from your mum much sooner. I overheard a little bit of your conversation with your father that day, and from his account, it did seem like your mum is pretty saddened by the whole thing."

"So you're taking her side," I finished, narrowing my eyes.

Raising his hands in a gesture of innocence, he tipped back his chair on two legs. "All I'm saying is, she seemed to miss you, so it's not surprising that she wrote you a letter after a month of nothing. I'm not saying go or don't go. That's entirely up to you."

Sighing, I apologised for my snappish behaviour, before we retreated into silence. I knew my behaviour towards Aidan this morning had been more than bitchy. I had taken out all my anger at my parents on him, and I owed him a sorry and a big thank you for being so supportive all this time.

Saying as much, I got up and hugged him.

"Aw, I love nice Molly," he teased.

"Just shut up and hug me back, jerk," I laughed.

My phone began ringing just then. Throwing Aidan a questioning glance, I pulled it out of my back pocket. When Aidan gestured that it was okay for me to take it, I picked up.

"Hello?"

"Uhm, hi, Molly. This is Elliot. I got your number from the reception. Wait, this is Molly right?"

Chuckling, I replied in the affirmative.

"Okay, cool. So remember you said you had to run some tests tomorrow? I can't make it for the appointment. Something's come up," he said in a rushed voice.

"Okay," I said slowly, frowning slightly. Why was he in such a rush? I wondered.

"Alright, so when should I reschedule for? When are you free?"

This really wasn't something he had to call me up for, I thought, frowning harder. Marcia usually handled these changes.

Keeping my cool, I replied, "I'm free this afternoon, if you want to head over?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Aidan mouthing something. It was incredibly distracting, so I waved it away and turned away from him.

"Sounds good," he agreed. "Sorry for bothering you. My father wanted your number so he could get a progress report sort of thing. Please don't talk to him," he blurted out.

What, I thought baffled. He went through all the trouble of getting my number to make sure I don't talk to his dad? I knew they didn't have an amazing relationship, but it seemed a bit extreme to me.

"Um, sure," I muttered. "Anything you choose to confide in me is confidential anyway, but if your father asks me about the tests or something else, then I think it'll be best for me to be honest with him."

"Come on!" he protested into the phone. "I'm twenty-three! My father just doesn't seem to realise that. I don't need him on my back."

"Elliot, I understand perfectly where you're coming from," I told him patiently, "But I have to keep the family members informed of the situation, if they're interested."

"Fine," he grumbled.

Next I heard the tell-tale click of someone hanging up on you, and rolling my eyes I put my phone on the table.

"Don't you have your shift at Azkaban today," Aidan asked me immediately.

"Nope," I answered, shaking my head. "Greyback has a confession session with some Aurors today, and I haven't been assigned a new case yet. Either way, I'm not in the mood to feel even glummer today."

Aidan nodded, smiling at me.

I washed the dishes in a few minutes of relative silence.

"You want to talk about the letter," he asked, faltering slightly.

"I can talk to Adele," I replied, throwing him an amused look. "I know emotional conversations make you second guess your manliness."

"That is not true," he protested. "I'm just not very good at dealing with tears. So yeah, if you plan on shedding a few, feel free to talk to Adele, but if your eyes will remain dry, I don't mind lending an ear."

Laughing, I nodded in acceptance. "There's nothing to cry about. Besides, I think I've already made my decision."

* * *

"Sorry, I'm late," I apologised, walking into my office at work that afternoon.

Elliot was already sitting on a sofa, flipping through a book I had left there.

"Do you really read this kind of stuff?" he asked incredulously, gesturing to the book.

With the characteristic Weasley blush painting my cheeks red, I mumbled in the affirmative. Quickly busying myself with taking out some papers from my bag, I set up the stuff on my desk.

"It's incredibly girly," he commented, wrinkling his nose and making a face.

"And I am a girl," I replied, rolling my eyes. "Anyway, enough about my reading preferences. We can't do any tests today, that room's not free. But let's just talk. So first question, how's the alcohol control going?"

Shrugging casually, he tossed the book onto the coffee table in front of him.

"It's going okay," he stated. "Not much to report."

"When was the last time you had alcohol?" I question, scribbling down a note on the corner of my file.

Before Elliot could reply though, my phone began ringing.

"Go ahead," he said, leaning back against the sofa.

Nodding gratefully, I answered the call.

"This is Mr. Toulson, Elliot's father. He's your patient currently, is he not?" a haughty voice, which I recognised from a single encounter, spoke.

"Uh, yes, I'm Molly. I'm actually in a session with your son at the moment. It would be great if you could call later. I'd be happy to help." Not, I added mentally. I was really not interested in prolonging my interactions with this man any more than I had to. Our one meeting had immediately put him on my bad side.

"Of course, Miss Molly."

The call ended abruptly with a click.

"It was my father?" Elliot spoke up, before I could say anything.

"Yes, and it's rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations," I said, giving him a mock disapproving look.

He waved my rebuke away casually. "You were right in front of me; I couldn't exactly shut my ears."

Rolling my eyes, I put my phone on silent and slipped it into my pocket. "Sorry, now there should be no interruptions. You didn't give me an answer. When was the last time you had alcohol?"

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, holding up a hand. "What did he want?"

"I don't know," I replied, sighing in aggravation. "I told him to call later, but I'm assuming progress reports?"

Shaking his head vigorously, he quickly denied this. "Don't tell him anything, please."

"Okay," I said, having had enough of this evasive behaviour. Putting my writing material to one side, I pulled my legs up on the sofa and crossed my arms. "What exactly is your problem with your father?"

"I don't have to talk to you about this," he replied, looking at me down his nose.

"Really?" I huffed, exasperated. "Fine, don't tell me as your counsellor. Tell me as a friend. I won't even write anything down."

"You're not my friend," he said, raising an amused eyebrow.

I groaned. "Okay, for now I am. We've been discussing your personal issues for a month now, I think we can move onto friends outside these appointments. And before you say this is an appointment," I said quickly, seeing his expression, "We're taking a break from it. The setting just happens to be the same."

Chuckling, he gave me an appraising look. Raising my eyebrows defiantly, I gave him a challenging look of my own.

"Alright, alright. It's not as dark and mysterious as you were probably expecting," he said, laughing. "My whole life, my dad has been pretty overbearing. He's quite controlling and domineering over us kids."

I nodded in understanding.

"Ever since he found out that I- Well, that I have a _problem_," he stressed, pointedly.

I rolled my eyes. He was mocking my words from when I had told him that the first step to overcoming his addictions was to accept that he had a problem.

"Go on," I said, suppressing the smile that was threatening to break out.

"He pretty much took over my life. Sending me to one psychologist, then the next. I have to take over the family business one day, and according to Dad it's too inappropriate for his 'heir' to be so, well, messed up, to be frank."

I nodded in understanding. "Okay, so I'll let him know how you're doing, and make it very clear that I'm going to be discussing everything with you first and accepting your decisions about anything, not his. How does that sound?" I offered. "Between the two of us, I think we'll be able to stop him from interfering against your will."

Elliot smiled grimly. "You clearly don't know my father. He'll find a way to butt in despite our efforts, if he wants. But thanks for offering."

I harrumphed. "I swear, you are so pessimistic. We can at least try!"

"Okay, okay," he surrendered, laughing at my glare.

Kicking his shin, I turned my head away in mock anger.

"I'm sorry. Shall I beg for your forgiveness now," he said, playfully.

"Not necessary-"

"Molly Weasley!" Marcia shouted from outside. A second later, the door to my office was flung open.

Raising an eyebrow, I gave her an inquisitive look.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I didn't know you had a session. You're supposed to be at Azkaban, anyway," she said, narrowing her eyes, suddenly suspicious.

"Greyback's case is concluding today. He has his confession stuff going on. They didn't need me there. And even if they did, I would say no! Apparently, Uncle Ron's in charge of this case now," I said, waving away her apology.

"Right," Marcia said, awkwardly. "Talk to me later, okay? I have something to tell."

I agreed, and she left then.

An awkward silence fell over me and Elliot.

"So," he trailed off. "Weasley, huh?"

Groaning internally, I put on my best poker face. "Is that a problem?"

"Perhaps. I'm wondering why you didn't mention this to me before. You expect me open up to you and talk to you as if you're my best friend, and yet, you didn't even tell me your last name?" he said, indignantly.

"Sorry, it wasn't a secret! It just never came up. It's none of your business anyway," I replied, annoyed at his reaction.

"And my problems are none of your business," he retorted. Standing up, he picked up his leather jacket from the sofa next to him, and walked out of the door.

Groaning loudly, I glared at the door that had just been slammed shut.

One step forward, two steps back. It was constantly like that around him.

What an arrogant bastard.

* * *

"I wasn't expecting you to be done so quickly," Marcia said, when I stepped out of my office a few minutes after Elliot had stormed out.

"Me neither," I muttered, pulling the strap of my handbag back onto my shoulder to prevent it from falling.

"Look, Marcia, I'd love to talk," I began.

"It's cool," she smiled. "It's not all that urgent. You can leave if you like."

"I'd love to stay," I explained hurriedly. "But I was expecting to have the afternoon free today, and so I was going to meet up with Adele. I forgot to reschedule when Elliot changed his appointment to today. I really have to run."

"It's alright, Molly," she laughed, patting me on the shoulder. "Relax, I won't die without you to listen to me."

"Thanks Marcia," I said, smiling gratefully at her.

I quickly walked to the coffee shop Adele and I had agreed upon. It was not too much of a distance away from the work building, an approximately ten minute walk.

Seeing Adele's car parked outside the shop, I slipped inside and spotted her almost immediately.

We chatted for a while, catching up on everything that had been going on. I told her about Mum's letter and my decision in regards to her invitation for lunch.

Adele nodded in understanding when I explained my reasons to her. "That makes sense," she agreed. "I think you're doing the right thing."

We talked about my argument with Elliot.

"I just don't understand why I was so obligated to tell him that I'm a Weasley," I ranted, frustrated. "It's just a name. I'm not really a Weasley!"

"Well, look at it from his point of view," Adele shrugged. "He's clearly not the type to sit down and have a heart-to-heart with even his best friend - or at least, that's what I've gathered from what you've told me. And yet, he's forced to do that with you. He probably feels cheated, even though it's such a small thing."

Grumbling, I refused to admit that Adele was probably right.

We paid the bill and left the shop. Strolling through the streets, we did a lot of window shopping - or in Adele's case, some actual shopping too.

I was admiring a gold necklace encrusted with sapphires when I saw a reflection in the glass of the display case that scared me to no end.

Two figures; one with hair a telling shade of red; the other, a brunette.

"Crap," I cursed, and quickly ducked, pretending to have dropped something onto the pavement.

"Molly?" Adele inquired curiously.

"Shut up," I hissed. "They'll see me!"

"Who?" Adele asked immediately. "Is it your parents?"

"Let's get out of here before they see me," I whispered, not bothering to answer Adele's question. I straightened up quickly and began walking at a brisk pace.

"Molly?" a familiar voice called, when I had walked away not even four feet away.

Pasting a sugary smile on my face, I turned around to face them.

"Aunt Hermione, Aunt Ginny!" I greeted with faked exuberance. 'Exotic island' indeed, I mocked to myself, thinking back to Mum's letter.

They were clearly shocked to see me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked sweetly through gritted teeth. Really, it seemed as if my whole family had decided to ambush me today. First Mum's letter, then the whole Weasley argument with Elliot, and now this. What was next, Uncle Fred dropping out of heaven to pay me a visit?

"We were just visiting a friend for a week. Harry and Ron are on an Auror mission," Aunt Ginny said, repeating what I already knew. The surprised expression lingered on her face.

"Do you live here?" Aunt Hermione asked, smiling hesitantly.

My first instinct was to lie, but remembering that Mum and Dad already have my address, I simply nodded.

There was an awkward silence, and I wondered where Adele was.

As if she had heard my thoughts, she popped up from behind me that very second.

"Hi," she said cheerfully. "I'm Adele, Molly's friend. I really hate to interrupt this lovely family reunion, but Molly and I have places to go, people to meet. I hope you don't mind." And before they could utter another word, Adele had apparated me out of there.

"Thank you," I breathed gratefully, after I had gotten over the sensation of Apparition.

"No worries, although you do owe me an explanation," Adele replied. "Who were those two women?"

Nodding, I quickly summed up the situation for her. "That was my Aunt Ginny, my dad's little sister, and Aunt Hermione. She's married to Uncle Ron, Dad's youngest brother. Mum mentioned in her letter that Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny's husband, and Uncle Ron are on a mission, so Aunt Hermione and Aunt Ginny were visiting a friend on an 'exotic island'. I had no idea she was talking about our island!"

Adele gave me an amused smile. "Well, you have to admit it, our island is pretty exotic," she said, winking playfully.

I cracked a small smile, not really in the mood to laugh. There was way too much going on in my head. Would I wake up to my parents knocking on my front door? Or would there simply be another letter, talking about how _delighted_ Mum was with my run-in with Aunt Ginny and Aunt Hermione?

"I actually thought Uncle Ron was handling Greyback's case, but he seems to be on a mission," I said thoughtfully after a while to break the silence.

"Maybe you misunderstood, or maybe he sent someone below him to deal with it," Adele suggested.

"Probably," I agreed. "Uncle Ron's not very good at handling confrontations. How did you pop up back there so suddenly anyway? I was literally just wishing that you'd show up, and you did," I remarked.

"I was just lingering in the backdrop, trying to come up with a not-rude way to rescue you. I think I still managed to offend them, though," Adele laughed. "It was getting way too tense there. I felt uncomfortable just watching!"

I knew Adele was trying to coax a laugh out of me, but I didn't feel like giving in. All I could think of was, what had just happened?

* * *

I had decided to spend the night at Adele's place. Before sitting down for the movie we were going to watch, I penned a quick note for Mum. After tying the letter to Adele's owl, Po's, leg, I opened the window and let it fly out.

Watching it fly away into the distance until it was no more than a black speck in the sky, I wondered if I had made the right choice.

* * *

**A/N: So this was mostly a filler chapter, but needed to forward the plot a little. I'm sorry it was so short, but it was two hundred words or so longer than the previous one.**

**Guys, I'd really appreciate it if you reviewed. This is my first multi-chapter fic, and I REALLY NEED THE FEEDBACK.**

**A HUGE thank you to _LoopyToucan, Books are air, TheInkedPen _and _thearcherballet_ for reviewing the previous chapter.**

**I have an idea, but by the response this story's getting, I don't think anyone's going to be interested. I was thinking, why don't you guys sort of interview Molly? I thought it would be cool and I had some questions I think would be interesting. If you're interested, just let me know on tumblr. ****J**

**Can't say when I'll update next, by the way, because although I do have a chunk of the next chapter written out, I have this one-shot I really want to complete soon. Anyway.**

**PEASE. REVIEW.**

**-Sana**


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